


Truth, Trust and Partnership

by Ivalee



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Detectives, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 47,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4598076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivalee/pseuds/Ivalee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DI Arthur Pendragon is assigned to work with the most openly-mocked detective on the Camelot CID.  He quickly learns Merlin's "spooky" reputation is well-earned.  Merlin believes in magic and mythical creatures, and he seems to spend most of his time with his head in the clouds.  But he is also the smartest, most compassionate detective Arthur has ever known.  And he is haunted by a mystery from his past that drives him to help victims who might otherwise be ignored.  Arthur cannot help but follow him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by The X-Files, a show that will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s not close enough to be a fusion, but I tossed in a few homages to the show that first introduced me to fandom and gave me several lifelong friends.
> 
> HUGE thanks and kudos to the lovely and talented [Rou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rou/pseuds/rou)! She is such a pleasure to work with... so gifted and clever and funny and kind! Her beautiful art never fails to move me. And her dedication to her work is such an inspiration! Go check out her [art masterpost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4609269) and leave her all the love she deserves!
> 
> Thanks to [untiltimeends](http://untiltimeends.livejournal.com) for beta-reading and thanks to the ACBB mods for all your hard work putting this fest together, even through tough times in RL.

Every morning for the last three years, Arthur Pendragon had visited the break room to pour himself a coffee. It was a regular part of his workday routine. Therefore, doing the same thing this morning was in no way an attempt to delay descending to the basement to settle into his new office for his new assignment with his new partner.

True, he usually stopped by his desk to shed his coat and drop off his laptop before heading to the break room for his morning caffeine jolt, but he didn’t even know if there was a coffee machine in the basement, and he didn’t want to have to come back upstairs right away. He was definitely not avoiding going to the dungeon-like basement to introduce himself to the department’s most openly mocked detective.

Arthur had nearly convinced himself that his motive for stopping here first was a purely innocent attempt to caffeinate. He selected his favourite mug from the shelf and reached for the coffee pot when he heard a familiar chuckle behind him.

“I hear you’ve been demoted.”

Arthur grit his teeth at Valiant’s baseless gibe but deliberately didn’t acknowledge him right away. He finished pouring his coffee, sloshed a bit of milk into the mug and picked up a stirring stick before casually turning to face the man who had been taunting him since the day he joined the Camelot CID.

“Well, Detective Sergeant Valiant, I’m not sure where you got that information, but you are incorrect. I have not been demoted.” Arthur gave his coffee a swirl, tossed the stick into the bin beside Valiant and then leaned back against the counter, kicking one leg in front of the other. He took a sip of his coffee, giving his rival a pointed look over the steaming mug. “Still Detective _Inspector_.”

Valiant scoffed at Arthur’s emphasis of his superior rank. “Maybe so, but you’re being exiled to the basement with DI Spooky. You must have messed up bad to be stuck with that freak.”

Arthur maintained a neutral expression, although Valiant’s words did rankle. He knew that’s what everyone in the department presumed — that Arthur had done something wrong and was being punished with this new assignment. And Arthur was not permitted to correct them. DCS Bayard had made it clear that the true purpose of his partnership with Emrys was to be kept between the two of them.

_“There are many, both within the department and in our community, who question the validity of the work Detective Inspector Emrys is doing. I need to you work closely with him — establish a trust. And report back to me, and me alone, on whether his work investigating these unexplained phenomena is worth the department’s resources.”_

Arthur couldn’t tell the truth, so he thought he might imply the transfer had been his idea. “His name is Emrys, and he’s doing some interesting work. The cases he investigates are definitely worth looking into, but he doesn’t have a background in science, so his explanations sometimes seem a little ‘out there.’ I thought I might be able to help in that area.”

As soon as Arthur spoke, though, he knew his choice of words had been a mistake. Valiant started laughing. “What? Because you had a couple years of medical school? You dropped out!”

There was no way Arthur was getting out of this with any dignity, so he simply decided to walk away. He edged past Valiant and out the door, but a smug shout followed him down the hall.

“Don’t worry, Spooky! Pendragon and his extensive background in medical science are here to save the day!”

Frustrated as he was about being forced to work on what seemed to him like frivolous cases and having his co-workers believe he was being punished, Arthur was actually looking forward to meeting Merlin Emrys properly. The man had a reputation for having his head in the clouds because of the types of cases he pursued, but there was something intriguing about a man who rose to the rank of Detective Inspector and then chose to start his own division to help the victims who might not otherwise get justice or closure because of the odd nature of the crime that had been committed against them. Also, Emrys didn’t seem to care what the other police officers thought of him.

Arthur reached the stairs to the basement and started down. He admired those who stood up for their beliefs and pursued their interests without concern for the opinions of those around them. His half-sister, Morgana, had always been like that. She could stand up to their formidable father in a way Arthur had never been able to but often wished he could.

Stepping into the hallway leading to his new office, Arthur wondered why it had to be so dark down here. And why Emrys would have chosen to work in this cold, gloomy space. The hall was lined with metal shelving units filled with boxes of files and evidence. Although Arthur respected Emrys for following his heart, he suspected “Spooky” would draw less ridicule if he hadn’t chosen to isolate himself so much from the rest of the department.

As he reached the doorway, Arthur was relieved to find the office better lit than the hallway, although it was also far more cluttered. Emrys’s desk, near the corner, was topped with a computer, books and multiple file boxes filled to the brim with papers. On the other side of the room was a work table piled high with books, various sized glass bottles that looked to be filled with herbs, a microscope and some instruments Arthur did not recognize. The office walls were lined with file cabinets, bookshelves and several smaller shelf units, each overflowing with books, papers and case files. Above the shelf units were two bulletin boards, blanketed with photos and notes.

There wasn’t a single clear surface in the entire office. But what most caught Arthur’s eye was a large poster with the image of a dragon in flight. Along the bottom in bold, white letters was the caption, “I WANT TO BELIEVE.”

Arthur stepped into the office to get a closer look and then realized DI Emrys was sitting at a smaller desk along the side wall with an open case file on his lap. Emrys looked up at Arthur and raised his eyebrows.

“DI Pendragon, I presume?”

“Yes, and you must be Emrys. I’ve seen you around, but we haven’t actually been introduced.” Arthur took a couple of steps forward and held out his hand to Emrys. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Are you, now?” Emrys shook Arthur’s hand but did not stand.

“I was led to believe you were appointed to see if I know what I’m doing. Because of your background. Your sense of duty.” He paused meaningfully. “Your connections.”

Arthur bristled at those words, because they were largely true, although he wasn’t certain which connections Emrys was referring to. He narrowed his eyes at his new partner.

“Fine. You are familiar with my reputation.” He scoffed slightly and looked pointedly at the poster of the dragon. “As I am with yours.”

At this, Emrys stood, maintaining eye contact with Arthur until he was peering ever so slightly down at him. He shoved the case file he had been studying into Arthur’s hands and turned away.

“Well then. At least we know where we stand.” Emrys’s tone was suddenly light as he bounded around the office, grabbing an iPad, a camera and finally his jacket from the back of his chair. “Might as well jump right in!”

He slung his jacket over his shoulder as he nearly skipped out the door. “Bring the file! You’ll need something to read on the drive!”

Arthur paused for a moment, taken aback by his new partner’s abrupt mood shift, but then he tucked the case file under his arm, set his coffee on the edge of the desk and followed Emrys toward the stairs.

*****

Emrys did not speak to Arthur properly again until they were in the car on their way to a nearby town to investigate. Almost as soon as he pulled out of the car park, Emrys reached over and tapped the case file on Arthur’s lap and said, “Missing persons case. Two last week. This is the third and the first within our jurisdiction.”

Arthur opened the file to start perusing the notes. “What makes you think these cases are connected?”

“Look at that first page. All three were at school together.” Emrys waved a finger toward the file, so Arthur scanned the summary sheet where Emrys had compiled characteristics of the missing women.

As he read the descriptions more carefully, Arthur found the women were all in their late twenties and had attended Beaconsfield High School.

“Any similarities in the nature of their disappearance?” He asked, still flipping through the pages of notes and photographs. There wasn’t much about the most recent woman to disappear, but the first two were both professionals who lived in South Bucks. His heart clenched when he noticed each of them had young children.

Emrys briefly turned his head toward Arthur. “The first one went out shopping last Thursday and never came back. The second disappeared from her home the next day, but there was no sign of a struggle.”

“And the third?” Arthur asked.

“Charlotte Swift.” Emrys grimaced slightly as he said her name. “She was taken from her home, too. Just yesterday.”

“This time there was a struggle, wasn’t there?” Arthur guessed.

Tilting his head, Emrys hesitated a moment before answering. “It’s unclear.”

“Unclear, how?” Arthur narrowed his eyes, wondering whether the crime scene had been compromised.

Emrys hesitated again, this time studying Arthur’s face from the corner of his eye as if he was trying to decide whether to trust him. “I’d rather not say.”

Arthur couldn’t help scoffing. His new partner didn’t seem to realize they were meant to cooperate.

Sounding a bit frustrated, Emrys continued, “I’d like you to see the house in person. I’m interested to hear what you think happened there.”

Sensing a challenge, Arthur stared back at Emrys, willing him to make eye contact. Instead of the angry glare Arthur was expecting in return, however, Emrys simply watched the road with a little smirk that made Arthur feel childish instead of triumphant.

Arthur spent the rest of the journey reading all the notes in the case file and deliberately not looking at his new partner.

*****

They arrived at the house where the missing young woman, Charlotte Swift, lived with her husband and infant daughter. The front door was blocked with police tape, but Emrys pushed it aside and produced a tagged key from his pocket to unlock the door.

“CSI was here yesterday afternoon to document the scene. The husband and baby are staying with relatives, but I was able to question him last night before they left.” Emrys pushed open the door and motioned for Arthur to enter first. “He was pretty shaken up, and I think you’ll see why.”

The entryway looked normal. Arthur turned to examine the door frame, the hinges and the lock, but there were no signs of forced entry, so he continued forward, past a dining area on the left toward the main living room. As soon as he saw the room, however, he stopped. He felt Emrys come to stand beside him, but he could not take his eyes from the sight before him.

“What the hell?”

At first glance, he believed the room had been ransacked. Furniture was upturned and the floor was littered with throw pillows, photo frames, books and papers. But as he examined the seeming chaos more closely, he realized there was a distinct pattern to the disarray. Every loose object was flung out in a circular pattern from a centre point near the window, which Arthur now noticed was shattered outward.

“Was there an explosion?”

Arthur walked to the spot that appeared to be the epicentre of whatever had decimated the room. Kneeling down, he examined the carpet up close.

“There’s no mark here. No scorching. No debris.” Arthur stood and motioned around the room. “All of these items were part of the room. Furniture, pillows, decorations. It’s like they were blown away from this spot.”

Emrys raised his eyebrows. “Blown away?”

“Yes...” Arthur turned slowly on the spot, holding out one hand as he worked out what could have caused the mess. “Literally blown. Like a strong wind.”

He moved carefully across the floor, pointing out items. “The furniture was simply overturned. And the heavier objects… and even smaller items without much surface area… these books and this vase. They didn’t go very far. But look…”

Striding quickly across the room, Arthur pointed to some flowers and then to some papers that were the farthest away from the epicentre and a bit more haphazardly strewn. “These were caught in the… blast? Breeze?”

He laughed suddenly and turned back to face Emrys with a shrug. “I don’t know. It sounds daft, but that’s what it looks like.”

Emrys nodded. “That’s what it looks like to me, too.”

“But what could cause such a uniform pattern of destruction without an actual explosion?” Arthur wondered.

With an enigmatic half-smile, Emrys took two steps toward Arthur and leaned forward to whisper furtively in his ear. “Do you believe in magic?”

Arthur felt his face warm, and he took a step away, involuntarily. “Very funny.”

But then he remembered the poster of the dragon in Emrys’s office with the words, “I want to believe,” and he wasn’t entirely certain the man was joking. Before he could say anything, though, Emrys shrugged his comment away.

“Here’s what we do know…” Emrys knelt to pick up a photo frame from the floor. He held it out to show Arthur. It was a photo of Charlotte Swift with her husband and baby. “All three of these women were, by all accounts, happily married and focused on providing the best life for their children.”

He lifted an end table and carefully stood the frame on its surface. He let his fingers slide gently down the photo, tracing the face of the baby girl sitting on her mother’s lap, before he turned to face Arthur again.

“These are not women who would simply leave their families. Although the others may not have been abducted violently, I do still believe there is a connection between their disappearances and Charlotte’s. They may have all been taken by the same person or group.”

He took another look around the room and then started toward the front door. “I’ll email you the CSI report, but there were no fingerprints or other evidence left behind. Whoever took Charlotte did not force their way in, and CSI are not sure what to make of the destruction in this room.”

Arthur caught Emrys’s arm before he got to the entryway. He pulled him back to face the living room again. “What about you? What do you make of all this?”

Emrys studied Arthur’s face, and again Arthur felt as if he was being evaluated for trustworthiness.

“I have a theory,” Emrys finally admitted.

“Care to share it?” Arthur was getting frustrated. They were supposed to be partners after all.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Emrys sighed. “Not just yet. We need to do a bit more investigating first.”

And he turned and started walking out the door. “Come on! We’re meeting Andrew Swift for coffee!”

*****

Arthur stared at Emrys over the top of his steaming coffee cup. He had decided Spooky was not an appropriate nickname for his new partner, after all. Suspicious, maybe. Or Withholding. DI Control-freak would certainly not be out of line. Emrys had not spoken one word to Arthur on their way to the coffee shop. Arthur did not know why they were meeting Charlotte Swift’s husband after Emrys had already spoken with him the night before. He was certain Emrys had some idea about what had happened to Mrs. Swift, and he felt Mr. Swift had more information to provide, but whatever Emrys’s suspicions were, he was not sharing them with his partner.

“Mr. Swift!” Emrys suddenly stood and waved toward the door.

Arthur watched as a young blond man in his late twenties approached their table. Andrew Swift looked like he hadn’t slept at all the night before. His eyes were red, with dark circles beneath them. He barely managed a smile as Emrys shook his hand.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Swift.” Emrys motioned toward Arthur. “This is my partner, DI Pendragon.”

Arthur nodded as Mr. Swift looked his way. “I’m so sorry about what you’re going through, Mr. Swift. We will do our best to find your wife.”

Mr. Swift sank into his chair and stared blankly at the coffee mug Emrys pushed toward him.

“I just don’t understand.” His voice was rough as he spoke. “Why would someone take her away from us?”

Emrys leaned forward a bit. “We don’t know. There were no signs of forced entry at your house, which might indicate that, if your wife was abducted, it was by someone she knew, or at least someone she felt comfortable letting into the house. Can you think of anyone in your wife’s life whose interactions with her ever made you uncomfortable?”

Mr. Swift shook his head, so Emrys pressed on. “Was there anyone she acted secretive about? Is it possible she might have been helping someone keep a secret?”

Arthur had been watching Mr. Swift’s face as Emrys spoke, but at these questions, Arthur’s eyes cut immediately to his partner. This was not the standard line of questioning for a missing person’s spouse. What made Emrys think Mrs. Swift was keeping a secret for someone?

Mr. Swift seemed as confused as Arthur was. “Uh, no. There wasn’t… She wouldn’t… I knew all of her friends. We used to go out together every weekend before Abby was born. They wouldn’t ask her to hide anything from me.”

Emrys nodded and opened the case file to pull out photos of the other two missing women. He pushed the pictures toward Mr. Swift. “Do you know these women?”

Leaning forward, Mr. Swift examined both photographs. He shook his head. “I’m not sure. They look vaguely familiar, but I can’t place them.”

“This one is Amanda Garrett. And that’s Vivian Norris.” Emrys tapped each photo twice.

Mr. Swift’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh! Right. Of course.”

“You do know them?” Arthur asked.

“They were Charlotte’s best friends at school.” Mr. Swift gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’ve never actually met them. I’ve seen a few pictures on Charlotte’s Facebook is all.”

“So your wife was still in contact with them?” Emrys raised his eyebrows hopefully.

But Mr. Swift shook his head. “Not really. Just the occasional ‘Like’ on Facebook. She hadn’t actually spoken with either of them for several years.”

Emrys sank back into his seat, his disappointment obvious on his face. Arthur gave him a pointed look. His behaviour at this interview didn’t seem terribly professional to Arthur. Emrys didn’t seem to notice his new partner’s disapproval, however, so Arthur turned back to Mr. Swift.

“Was there a specific reason they didn’t speak, or had they just fallen out of touch over the years?”

At this, Mr. Swift grimaced slightly. “Well… Charlotte was actually sort of glad to leave those particular friends in her past.”

Hearing this, Emrys perked back up. Arthur glared at him.

“She often said she was ashamed of who she was at school.” Mr. Swift sighed deeply and shrugged. “I mean, who doesn’t have some regrets from their teen years?”

He seemed hesitant to speak ill of his wife at this moment, so Arthur nodded and, chuckling a bit, admitted, “Oh, I’d gladly take back most of my behaviour from secondary school. I was a bit of a prat, to be honest.”

With a grateful smile to Arthur, Mr. Swift continued. “Charlotte told me how she was desperate to be in with the popular girls, so she went along with some things she knew were wrong. She said Vivian and Mandy used to make fun of a lot of girls, and she just laughed along with them, even when she didn’t agree.”

Suddenly, Mr. Swift sat up straight and looked at Emrys. “Why do you have those pictures? Did something happen to them, too? You don’t think any of those girls would still be holding a grudge after all these years?”

“I don’t know.” Emrys glanced up at Arthur who nodded back. Now they had a place to start. “Vivian Norris and Amanda Garrett are missing, as well. Since last week. Are you certain your wife hadn’t reconnected with them recently?”

Mr. Swift shook his head, so Emrys pressed him. “I’m sorry to ask you this, Mr. Swift. We could gain access to your wife’s recent emails, texts and social media accounts, but it would take some time to follow the proper procedures. If you happen to know any of her passwords for those accounts, that would be a good place to start…”

With a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, Mr. Smith interrupted. “What do you think I’ve been doing all night? There was nothing. She posted a picture of Abby blowing spit bubbles. She arranged a meeting with a client and sent some PDFs for him to sign. She and her best friend made plans to have lunch tomorrow. She texted me yesterday to pick up nappies on my way home.”

At this, Mr. Swift’s voice broke, and he bent his head toward the table, grunting out an awkward, “Sorry.”

Arthur’s heart broke for this young husband and father, and he was about to tell him he needn’t apologize, but Emrys immediately scooted his chair closer to Mr. Swift, put his hand on his shoulder and spoke in a low, soothing tone.

“You don’t need to apologize for your pain. Pendragon and I became detectives so we could help those who have been hurt.”

Mr. Swift nodded without raising his head, and although neither he nor Emrys was looking at him, Arthur nodded, too.

“We’re going to bring Charlotte home to you and Abby. I promise.” Emrys squeezed Mr. Swift’s shoulder and patted his back twice before pulling away.

As Mr. Swift gathered himself, Emrys lifted piercing blue eyes to meet Arthur’s. He held Arthur’s gaze for a moment and then, eyebrows raised, nodded as if asking, “Will you do whatever it takes to bring this woman home?”

Without hesitation, Arthur nodded back. Like Emrys said, he wanted to help people. This was why he had become a cop. And for the first time since he stepped into the basement office that morning, Arthur felt like he and his partner were on the same page.

*****

After Andrew Swift left, Emrys phoned the detective working on the Garrett and Norris cases. He hadn’t found much in his investigation, however, because in those cases there was no evidence of abduction. The women were simply missing. He did say Amanda Garrett and Vivian Norris were still friends, and he agreed with Emrys that the three cases were likely connected and promised to share any evidence or information he turned up.

Arthur and Emrys spent the rest of the day interviewing Charlotte Swift’s mother, boss, colleagues and friends. None of these interviews got them any closer to discovering what had happened to Charlotte Swift. It was after dark by the time the detectives started back toward the Camelot police station. Emrys seemed frustrated at their lack of progress that day, and although Arthur didn’t know his new partner well yet, he sensed something about this case was getting to Emrys on a more personal level.

“When we talked to the detective from South Bucks, he didn’t even know about Charlotte Swift. Who made the connection between her and the first two missing women?”

“That was me.” Emrys spoke quietly.

“How?” Arthur pressed him. “Those first two disappearances shouldn’t have even crossed your radar. What made you look into them and realize they were at school with our victim?”

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Emrys pursed his lips before answering. “I keep an eye on missing person cases across the country. That’s all.”

“Why?” Arthur wondered.

“Looking for certain...” Emrys rubbed his hand over his mouth before continuing. “Patterns.”

He twisted slightly toward Arthur, still keeping an eye on the dark road. “Two women missing from the same town in the same week caught my eye, so I looked into their files. Then when I heard about Charlotte and what happened at her house, I asked for the case. Reading her background, I noticed she attended Beaconsfield High School just like the others.” His gaze cut sideways to meet Arthur’s. “That has to be significant.”

Arthur agreed, nodding, but something Emrys said struck him as odd. “Why do you track missing person cases outside our jurisdiction?”

Emrys ducked his head with a sigh. “I could tell you it’s because I’m very thorough. A meticulous and responsible cop. But that’s not the real reason.”

“What is the real reason?” Arthur pressed.

“I’m always on the lookout for mysterious disappearances … with a specific pattern of evidence.”

After this vague answer, Emrys was silent. He clearly didn’t want to explain any further. Arthur sighed. His new partner seemed to enjoy answering questions in the most cryptic way possible. Frustrating as this was, Arthur actually understood. Emrys probably felt Arthur had been assigned to work with him because DCS Bayard didn’t trust him. And that wasn’t entirely wrong, but Arthur also knew working together in such high-stress situations required trust. And the best way to gain someone’s trust was to show you trusted them.

“Earlier you said you became a detective so you could help people who are hurting. I guess you are aware of some of my background… I know it’s sort of a joke around the department. Not a lot of folks drop out of medical school to become a cop.”

Arthur watched Emrys for a reaction, and he thought he saw half a smile appear, so he continued.

“My father always pressured me to be the best. At school. At sport. At everything, really.” Arthur sighed, remembering one particular incident. “When I was thirteen years old, some friends and I organised an auction to raise money for a local animal shelter. We put in some of our old toys and games, and we asked for donations from local businesses. Raised almost a thousand pounds!”

Emrys gave Arthur a questioning look, clearly wondering where this story was going.

“Well, afterward, each of my friends’ parents were telling their kid how proud they were of all the hard work they put in for a charitable cause.” Arthur sighed. “But my father pulled me aside and scolded me because my friend Elena had raised almost twice as much as any of the rest of us, and if I had put in more effort, maybe I would have been the top fundraiser.”

“Yikes.” Emrys grimaced.

“Yeah.” Arthur hadn’t told anyone that story for years, and he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake placing his trust in this man. But he wanted this partnership to work. Not because his boss wanted him to provide information on the legitimacy of Emrys’s work, but because he could tell Emrys genuinely cared about the victims he helped, and Arthur was actually starting to feel a connection with his partner. So he continued his confession of why he became a cop.

“Father wanted me to follow him into the family business, but I wasn’t interested in profit margins and the bottom line. I wanted to do something more useful. Something where I could make a difference in people’s lives.”

Now Arthur was certain he saw Emrys smile.

“When I told my father how I felt, he wasn’t happy. We argued for a long time about my future. But he finally decided if I wouldn’t be VP of Pendragon Enterprises, I should at least choose some well-respected profession where I could rise to glory. He said I should study medicine and that he might be able to respect me once I had saved a life or two.”

“That’s…” Emrys shook his head, unable to speak. Arthur understood. The few people who had actually seen the ugly side of Uther Pendragon usually didn’t know how to respond.

“So you see, the main reason I went to medical school was not because I actually wanted to be a doctor. It was to please my father.” Arthur clicked his teeth. “Well, when the coursework starts getting overwhelming, and you know even when you finish that, you still have years of internship and residency, suddenly, pleasing your father doesn’t seem quite so important.”

Arthur laughed. “Especially when you know nothing you do will ever be good enough for him.”

Emrys glanced sideways at him and gave a sympathetic nod.

“After I dropped out of school, choosing a new path wasn’t that difficult. Detective work had always interested me. When I was a kid, I read the Famous Five and the Hardy Boys. Sherlock Holmes.” Arthur chuckled and shrugged. “So I joined the force with the intention of training to be a detective. I hoped a background in medical science might come in handy for analysing evidence.”

He laughed again. “I wanted to solve mysteries.”

“And you wanted to help people.” Emrys interjected with a slightly hopeful tone.

Arthur nodded slowly. “And I wanted to help people.”

They drove in silence for several more minutes, Arthur occasionally turning his eyes to watch his partner’s face. He was focused on the road, but he was steadily chewing on his bottom lip. The action made his cheek pull inward, accentuating his already prominent cheekbones. Arthur had noticed those cheekbones months ago, before he even knew Emrys’s name.

Finally, Emrys tilted his head toward Arthur. He took a deep breath and then began to speak.

“Twenty-four years ago, there was a case where a young man— a husband and father— disappeared, and the crime scene was so unusual it completely baffled the police. They couldn’t find any helpful evidence, so they had to give up. The man was never found.”

This time when Emrys paused, Arthur simply waited silently for him to continue, because he suspected he was finally getting some real information from his enigmatic partner.

“I’ve been watching the missing person reports ever since I became a cop, and the newspapers before that, looking for another case with a similar crime scene.” Emrys swallowed hard. “I haven’t seen that pattern repeated in all those years. Until yesterday.”

They arrived at the police station car park, and Emrys pulled into a spot and turned off the engine. But neither he nor Arthur made a move to get out of the car. After a few quiet moments, Emrys turned to face Arthur.

“Charlotte Swift was taken from her home yesterday afternoon. She did not go voluntarily, but most likely she wasn’t knocked out or drugged, and neither was she dragged out, kicking and screaming. She was transferred directly from her living room to another location, and the energy of the transfer caused the destruction you saw.”

Arthur looked directly into Emrys’s eyes as he made this declaration, and he could tell that no matter how absurd this theory sounded, Emrys believed it. Completely.

“What makes you believe that’s what happened?” Arthur couldn’t keep the scepticism from his voice.

“Because I’ve seen it happen before.”

Heart suddenly beating fast, Arthur let out a sigh of recognition. “That case twenty-four years ago…”

“Was my father.” Emrys maintained eye contact with Arthur as he explained. “A man came into our house, wrapped his arms around my father, spoke words in a language I had never heard, and both of them disappeared in a strong wind that knocked me down. Knocked everything down. Our living room looked much like the Swifts’ did today.”

Arthur could hardly believe what his partner was saying. “But you couldn’t have been more than…”

“I was six years old.” Emrys finally looked away with a sigh. “But I remember every detail about that night.”

He shrugged. “It was the last time I saw my father.”

Without even thinking about it, Arthur reached out and put his hand on Emrys’s arm, causing his partner to turn and meet his eyes again.

“I’m sorry.”

Emrys smiled and shrugged. “That’s why I became a cop.”

And suddenly, everything made sense. Emrys’s special interest in the unexplainable cases. His willingness to isolate himself from the rest of the department to have the freedom to pursue these cases. And his personal commitment to finding Charlotte Swift and the other missing women. Arthur could certainly understand such dedication, and he would do whatever it took to make sure Emrys kept his promise to bring Charlotte Swift home to her family.

Emrys gathered the case file and his belongings and stepped out of the car. Arthur followed suit and then walked around to the front of the car where Emrys was still standing.

“I’m going down to the office to type up our notes from the interviews today. You can head on home.”

“Thanks.” Arthur chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Emrys.”

With a quick shake of his head, Emrys chuckled back. “Call me Merlin.”

Arthur acknowledged the token of familiarity with a sharp nod. He stuck out his hand and returned the gesture. “Arthur.”

Merlin stepped forward and shook Arthur’s hand in the car park of the police station, affirming their new partnership.

*****

The next morning, Arthur didn’t even bother stopping by the break room to get coffee. He was anxious to get to work on the case. After he had gone home the night before, he was too wound up to go to sleep, so he wrote out an analysis of everything he and Merlin had learned that day. And he had an idea for the next step in their investigation. He strode into the office and was unsurprised to find Merlin already sitting at his desk.

“Morning!” He greeted his partner and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. “I think we need to pay a visit to Beaconsfield High School to see if they have any records from the years our missing women attended. Maybe we could even talk with some teachers who were there at the time. We could find out if they remember any of the victims of Charlotte and her friends’ bullying.”

As he spoke, Merlin started to grin inexplicably, so Arthur looked down to make sure he didn’t have a stain on his tie or something. “What?”

Merlin kept grinning as he stood and walked around his desk. “I think this partnership will work out fine. I just got off the phone with the head teacher at Beaconsfield. She’s expecting us at three o’clock.”

He paused in front of Arthur. “Andrew Swift gave me access to Charlotte’s Facebook and Instagram. So I’ve been looking at all the interactions between her and Garrett and Norris. Both are open on my computer, so check it out. They haven’t sent your computer down here yet. I’m heading over to the courthouse to get a warrant to search the school records for all three women. Just in case!”

Merlin swept out the door, leaving Arthur standing in the middle of the office, feeling slightly off-kilter. He had come in ready to start the investigation in earnest, but his partner’s excitement had thrown him off. He had never seen him grinning like that before. There was an electricity in Merlin’s brilliant blue eyes when he smiled that made Arthur’s stomach jolt and his palms tingle.

Arthur shook his head to clear it and then whistled low as he moved toward Merlin’s computer. He needed to focus on the investigation and not on blazing eyes and a dazzling smile and cheekbones that could cut glass. He blinked hard a few times before focusing on looking for more connections between the three missing women.

*****

“Why is it so dark down here? Tell me the truth, Lance. Is that why they call him Spooky? He’s a vampire?”

“Yes. Nothing gets by you, does it? You should take the detective exam right away.”

“Shut up! I’d pass it before you would. This is their office, right?”

Arthur looked up from the computer to see his friends, Lancelot and Gwaine, stepping through the doorway. They immediately started looking around at Merlin’s clutter. Gwaine’s eyes stopped on the dragon poster on the wall behind the desk. He scoffed and smirked at Arthur.

“Who did you piss off to get stuck down here, mate?” He walked over to the work table and picked up and examined one of the jars filled with herbs. “You shagged the boss’s daughter, didn’t you?”

“Maybe you’d be down here if she hadn’t turned you down cold, Gwaine.” Arthur leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head, as Gwaine put a hand over his heart and looked wounded.

Lancelot simply shook his head. “But seriously, Arthur, do have any idea what you did?”

With a frustrated sigh, Arthur sat up straight and placed his hands flat on the desk. Why did everyone seem to believe he was being punished?

“I’m here because Bayard trusts me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Arthur regretted them. Saying Bayard assigned him to work with Merlin because he trusted Arthur made it sound like Bayard didn’t trust Merlin. And, yes, that was sort of true, but for some reason, Arthur didn’t want his fellow police officers to think their boss didn’t trust his new partner. So he spoke quickly to amend his statement.

“He trusts me with the extremely challenging cases Emrys works.” Arthur pushed the interview notes he had been reviewing into a stack and closed the folder, as if to emphasise the confidentiality of the case. “You know … the cases no one else will touch?”

“No one will touch them because they sound ridiculous!” Gwaine laughed right out loud. “Didn’t he one time believe some bloke’s story about being attacked by mythical creatures, and then he tracked them down, only to find out it was just a nest of slightly larger than average shrews?”

Arthur looked up at Gwaine with disdain, ready to defend his partner, but his friend put his hands up in apology.

“Come on, Arthur. You know me. I know better than to believe all the rumours that fly around this place. I’m sure Emrys is a good guy. Why don’t you ask him to join us at the pub Friday?”

Several of the Camelot cops would meet Friday evenings at the pub down the street to unwind from the job. Merlin had never joined in, and, now that he thought about it, Arthur wasn’t certain whether anyone had ever invited him.

“Yeah, I will. That’s a good idea.” Grateful for his friend’s willingness to see past idle gossip, Arthur nodded. “Thanks, Gwaine.”

Lancelot also had the grace to look embarrassed about his earlier comment to Arthur. He tapped the corner of the desk before he and Gwaine turned to leave the office. “Definitely bring him round the pub. We’d like to get to know him better.”

“Yeah.” Most of the Camelot cops were generally good-natured blokes who wouldn’t hold a grudge against Merlin simply because of the kinds of cases he chose to pursue. Arthur only hoped Valiant wouldn’t be at the pub Friday night.

*****

Later that afternoon, Merlin and Arthur sat in the head teacher’s conference room at Beaconsfield High School, poring over files from boxes the school administrator had pulled from storage. They were looking for any information on the three missing women, but so far all they had found were attendance records and grades. All three seemed to have been fairly bright and dedicated students.

Arthur was flipping through a box of awards from their final year at this school. They weren’t certain whether the women had participated in any extracurricular activities, so he figured scanning the sport and debate awards for their names might be a good place to start.

“You said you’d like to take back most of your behaviour from secondary school?” Merlin suddenly spoke up, and when Arthur gave him a confused look, he clarified, “When we were talking with Andrew Swift yesterday. You said you were a prat at school.”

Arthur looked over at Merlin, who was smirking at him with twinkling eyes. “Were there any particular actions you’d like to take back, or were you just an all-around git?”

Those eyes paired with that lopsided grin made Arthur’s heart feel like it leapt into his throat for a moment, but somehow he managed to keep a straight face.

“Oh, that.” Now he have a half-hearted shrug. “I was only saying that to get him to open up about his wife’s dodgy past. No, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but I was an absolute model citizen as a teenager. Perfect marks. Star football player. Regularly helped old ladies across the street. Everybody loved me.”

Merlin laughed right out loud, and Arthur decided his new mission in life was to hear that sound at least once a day from now on.

“I don’t believe that for one second!” Merlin was still grinning when he conceded, “Maybe the football thing.”

“Oh, I killed it on the pitch.” Arthur grinned back. “And I’ve already told you about my father — anything less than perfect marks were not an option.”

Merlin’s smile started to fade, but Arthur was not discouraged. He had already admitted he was ashamed of his teenaged self, and he didn’t mind Merlin knowing more of the details. “Come on! I was a typical spoiled rich kid! I was used to getting my way. I thought I was better than everyone else, and I wasn’t afraid of letting them know it.”

He gave an embarrassed laugh. “I was a right jerk to a lot of people, but something happened that made me want to change. My sister — well, half-sister — Morgana, left home. She and my father weren’t getting along. At all. There was quite a bit of yelling. Anyway, she just took off one day. And she said some things to me before she left that … got to me.”

“So you changed your behaviour because of something your sister said to you?” Merlin asked, sounding a bit surprised.

Arthur shrugged.

“It wasn’t just…” How could he explain how much losing Morgana had affected him? “She opened my eyes and helped me see what I was becoming.”

He didn’t want to go into all the details. How she had compared him with Uther and said she couldn’t stand to be around either one of them.

“Anyway.” He looked up at Merlin. “Her leaving helped me to stop being so selfish all the time.”

“Sounds like you and your sister were pretty close.”

“Oh, we hated each other!” Arthur laughed, and Merlin raised his eyebrows. “And we loved each other. As siblings do.”

“Did she ever come back?” Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head. “She never moved back into the house. Went to live with a cousin from her mum’s side. But she kept in touch with me. And eventually she and Father made a polite sort of peace.”

He smiled, thinking Morgana and Uther’s definition of “polite” might be a bit different than most people. He looked up at Merlin again. “What about you? Any siblings?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. It was just Mum and me.”

“And what were you like at school, Mr. Emrys?” Arthur found he was genuinely curious to hear what Merlin had been like as a teenager.

“I don’t know.” Merlin’s expression was suddenly closed. “I was pretty quiet. Never felt like I fit in. I wasn’t bullied or anything. I just kept myself to myself, mostly.”

With a shrug, he turned back to the box of files he had been searching through, and Arthur continued watching him for a moment, disappointed his partner didn’t feel comfortable opening up, even after Arthur had shared so many personal details from his youth. With a sigh, Arthur bent his head to examine the stack of files he had pulled.

After a few minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence, Merlin spoke again. “Here’s something.”

He stood and walked toward Arthur, holding out two pieces of paper. Arthur took them from his hand to read. They were copies of disciplinary notices. One was addressed to the parents of Vivian Norris and the other to the parents of Jody Beecham. They stated that the two girls had been fighting in the lunchroom, and Jody shoved Vivian forcefully into a wall. Vivian received a warning for fighting, and Jody received a two-day suspension for violent behaviour.

“I wonder if Jody Beecham was one of the victims of Vivian Norris and her group’s bullying.” Arthur handed the papers back to Merlin.

“Seems likely, doesn’t it?”

Merlin placed the papers onto the table and took a picture of each of them with his phone before setting them aside. Arthur watched him for a moment as he slowly perused all the items in one file folder, probably looking for more information about that incident. He sort of liked the way Merlin’s forehead creased and his full lips pursed when he was concentrating. Feeling his ears start to burn, Arthur turned back to his own stack of files, hoping Merlin hadn’t noticed his eyes on him for so long, but at that moment the head teacher, Mrs. Cole, opened the door and poked her head into the conference room.

“Classes are finished for the day. Anything I can do to help you gentlemen?”

“Yes, I hope so.” Merlin picked up the two disciplinary notices and held them out to Mrs. Cole. “You mentioned you were teaching here when Charlotte, Amanda and Vivian were at school. Do you happen to remember this incident? Or this girl, Jody Beecham?”

Mrs. Cole took the papers and nodded slowly. “Oh yes. I remember Jody. I think any of her teachers would remember her.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, standing and walking closer to Mrs. Cole and Merlin.

“Well, Jody was a bright girl, but she struggled at school.” Mrs. Cole leaned against the edge of the table and closed her eyes for a moment. “Back then we weren’t quite as vigilant as we are now about watching out for incidents of bullying. And Jody, bless her heart, she seemed to want to stand out. She dyed her hair black. Wore heavy makeup around her eyes. Painted her nails black. Anytime I saw her outside of school, she was wearing all black. I think the kids called her ‘goth.’ I didn’t know much about her home situation. She lived with both parents, but I think they did work a lot of the time.”

Mrs. Cole looked over at Merlin. “Vivian wouldn’t tolerate anyone standing out like Jody did. She and her girls used to follow Jody around and just pick and pick at her. Making comments about her clothes or her hair. Or… she used to wear one of those crystals around her neck. Those New Age type things. I don’t know if she believed it held some sort of power, or if it was simply part of her look. But she accused Vivian of stealing it from her rucksack after gym one day.”

“Do you remember this fight?” Merlin pointed at the papers she still held.

“I do.” Now Mrs. Cole furrowed her brow and shook her head. “It was the strangest thing…”

She suddenly looked up, eyes wide. “As a matter of fact, it was right after Jody had accused Vivian. She confronted her in the lunchroom in front of everyone, and Vivian didn’t like that. We never found out for certain, but I suspect Vivian did take the crystal. Or, at least, had one of her faithful girls do it for her. I guess Jody didn’t think we were doing enough to recover her property, so she walked right up to Vivian and just started shouting at her.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Arthur pulled out a notepad so he could record the details of her story. “I need to know whether you witnessed this confrontation directly or if you were told about it later.”

Mrs. Cole shook her head. “No, I was in the office at the time. There were two teachers who weren’t paying attention at the beginning of the argument but noticed once it got physical. And we talked with both girls and several of the other students who saw the whole thing.”

“Thank you. Please, continue.”

Arthur wrote “second-hand, from memory 10 yrs later” at the top of his page.

“Well, Jody was accusing Vivian — quite loudly. And Vivian started shouting back, and I guess she got right in Jody’s face.” Mrs. Cole frowned. “Now here’s where the story got odd. The teachers and most of the students said Jody shoved Vivian into the wall. But they were standing at least four metres from the wall, so it must have been a forceful shove.”

Arthur looked up from his notepad and gave her an indulgent nod. Four metres did seem a long distance to remain upright after being pushed, but Arthur knew that even first-hand accounts of such an incident were not entirely reliable. The girls could have been standing closer to the wall, and after the physical attack, Jody simply retreated, placing her farther back from the wall when the witnesses took notice of her location.

Mrs. Cole continued. “However, some of the students claimed Jody never even touched Vivian. That she threw her hands out, and Vivian just flew across the room into that wall.”

Again, Arthur didn’t think such an account from high school students was so unusual. “Well, I’m sure witnessing a fight between the popular girl and the ‘goth kid’ she picked on would be quite exciting. And then being asked to share the details of that fight with the administration? Most kids would love to be put in that sort of spotlight. I think a bit of exaggeration on their part would not be unheard of.”

He glanced at Merlin, expecting some sort of confirmation that he agreed with Arthur, but his partner was suddenly white as a sheet, eyes wide. Oddly, Arthur thought he saw a hint of recognition in his expression. But before either of them could say anything else, Mrs. Cole’s assistant opened the door and poked her head in.

“Barbara? You have a call from Mr. Wells.”

Mrs. Cole turned toward Merlin and Arthur. “Please excuse me. That’s one of the school governors. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

She handed the disciplinary notices back to Merlin and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Merlin stared at the papers with a sigh, but he didn’t say anything.

So Arthur spoke up. “It sounds like Ms. Beecham had a bit of a temper. I mean, according to Mrs. Cole, Vivian and the others put her through hell, but to attack a fellow student like that in front of everyone…”

“She might not have been able to control...” Merlin murmured under his breath, brow furrowed, deep in thought.

Suddenly, he looked up to meet Arthur’s eyes. “I wasn’t completely honest before, when you asked what I was like at school.”

“Oh?”

“I was actually suspended once. For fighting. Sort of like Jody.” Merlin confessed.

“So you were bullied?” Arthur took a step closer to Merlin, feeling a sudden protectiveness of his partner.

But Merlin shook his head. “Not really. It was a one-time thing. Some bloke called me a name, and I just… lost control.”

He looked right at Arthur again. “I think it was because I always felt like I had to hide everything. I could never completely be myself, and that shame and resentment built up, until… When he said that, I lost it. I shoved him into the lockers so hard he had bruises.”

Shaking his head, Merlin almost whispered, “I felt terrible later.”

Arthur’s heart was pounding. He certainly understood having to hide a part of yourself at that age. When he was at school, he didn’t even understand a lot of the feelings he had. He thought no one would understand that he was attracted to boys as well as girls, so he, too, kept a secret all through secondary school and even well into university. He found himself nodding at Merlin, encouraging him to continue.

“After that, I basically kept my head down and focused on getting out of there unnoticed.” Merlin shrugged.

“I hope—“ Arthur started and then cleared his throat, because the conversation was getting more emotional than he was usually comfortable with. “I hope you don’t still feel you have to hide. Especially from me.”

Merlin nodded, lips turning up at the corners, although his eyes held a little melancholy. He shrugged. “I came out when I started university, and that helped.”

Arthur nodded again. He opened his mouth, ready to confess how much finally admitting to himself that he was bisexual had helped him, when the door opened and Mrs. Cole stepped back inside.

“Sorry about that.” She held her hands out before her. “Did you need anything else? I’d be happy to arrange a meeting with any of the other teachers who were here ten years ago.”

Taking two steps backward, Arthur shook his head, feeling his cheeks and ears warm, but fortunately, Merlin spoke up.

“I don’t think that will be necessary today, but we might be contacting you again in the next few days.”

On their way out to the car, Arthur was a little sad his and Merlin’s moment of honesty had been interrupted, but he also felt strangely exhilarated his partner had genuinely opened up to him. They were finally making real progress. In their professional partnership, of course. It was important to be able to trust your partner if you hoped to stay safe in the dangerous situations that might arise in police work. The butterflies in Arthur’s stomach had everything to do with forming a professional bond with his partner and nothing to do with that partner’s razor-sharp cheekbones or sinewy arms or mind-numbingly gorgeous smile. Or the fact that he now had confirmation his partner also liked men. Nothing at all.

“You okay?” Merlin asked as soon as they got in the car. “You seem quiet.”

“I’m fine.” Arthur brushed off Merlin’s concern. “Just thinking about what our next step should be.”

Merlin started the car and pulled out onto the street. “I think we’ll pay a visit to our colleague on the Garrett and Norris cases to let him know what we’ve found, and find out if he’s got any new information.”

“Yeah. That’s… good idea. Yeah.” Arthur felt his cheeks warming again. This would never do. He couldn’t go getting flustered every time he had to speak to Merlin. He was a professional, damn it, and he would not let a crush affect his behaviour. He noticed Merlin’s tongue dart out to wet his lips, and Arthur whipped his head to face the opposite window so fast he worried he might have given himself whiplash. Professional. Professional. He chanted over and over in his head all the way to the station.

*****

DI Harper agreed with Arthur and Merlin that Jody Beecham seemed a likely suspect, so he helped them track down her last known address. It was a country home, only a few kilometres outside of Camelot. It had apparently been in her family for generations. Merlin decided they shouldn’t waste any time, so he and Arthur drove out there right away. DCS Bayard had warned Arthur that Merlin had a tendency to ignore protocol, so Arthur called the station to check in. Because there was a possibility of hostages, Arthur asked the dispatcher to send backup.

When they arrived, Arthur was glad Sergeants Corbin and Nemeth were on their way. The house felt isolated both by its distance from town and by the thick trees and overgrown brush mostly blocking view of the house from the road.

“It’s a perfect place to hide.” Merlin murmured as he parked the car across the road from the entry to the driveway.

Arthur agreed. Unfortunately, their inability to properly see the house without getting close enough to be seen themselves made it hard to prepare a plan of action.

“We should wait for backup before we approach the house.” Arthur noticed Merlin jiggling his leg in anticipation. “Percival and Mithian should be here soon.”

Merlin didn’t respond, which worried Arthur. His partner was turned away from him, squinting toward the house as if he could see through the trees if he concentrated hard enough. On the way here, Merlin hadn’t said much at all. Arthur had searched the satellite views from the police database as well as Google Maps and couldn’t find an angle that showed the house clearly. The trees were simply too thick. They knew where the driveway approached the house, but they couldn’t tell how large the house was or where the doors were.

Apparently, Merlin had been coming up with a plan. “I could walk about 100 metres down this road and then cut through that brush to approach the house from the rear at the same time as you walked up the driveway. You could knock on the door and see if anyone answers. If Jody comes to the door, you could see if she’s acting suspicious at all. And I could watch the back in case she tries to make a break for it.”

“Merlin. We’re waiting for backup.” Arthur insisted. “It’s standard procedure. Not to mention, it’s safer for both us and any hostages who may be inside the house.”

Finally turning to look at Arthur, Merlin spoke, his voice wavering slightly. “Charlotte Swift has been missing for 54 hours now. Vivian Norris for five whole days and Amanda Garrett for six. If they’re in there…”

Arthur closed his eyes with a sigh. He knew how Merlin felt. Sitting here in the car right outside the house where these women might be being held. Knowing they must be frightened, wondering whether they would ever see their families again. Sitting here waiting for backup felt… cowardly, somehow. But Arthur also knew the policy was there for a reason. When officers acted impetuously was when people got hurt.

“There’s no telling when our backup will get here.” Merlin pleaded.

Arthur looked up to find his partner peering at him, hopeful eyes growing wider as Merlin seemed to sense Arthur’s indecision. Oh, those puppy dog eyes were going to be Arthur’s downfall, he just knew it.

“I promised Andrew Swift we’d bring his wife home, Arthur.” Merlin’s voice was sincere and filled with compassion. “I promised.”

Arthur closed his eyes again. This wasn’t fair. He remembered Merlin gently touching the photograph of Charlotte Swift with her baby and then later confessing how this case reminded him so much of his own father’s disappearance. Knowing how this case was affecting Merlin so personally made it impossible for Arthur to hold out.

“All right.” He surrendered.

He could feel the relief pouring from his partner as Merlin breathed out a grateful, “Thank you.”

They got out of the car, and Merlin started down the road alone, but Arthur trotted after him. “Let me walk down the road with you to take a look at what you’ll be trekking through. We need to figure out the timing, if we plan to approach the house from opposite sides at the same moment.”

The moon was nearly full and the sky clear and bright with stars, so hopefully even under the cover of the trees, Merlin wouldn’t need a torch to find his way, as they didn’t want to alert anyone inside the house of their approach. As they started around a bend, Merlin found a clear spot where he could easily pick his way through the brush toward the house. From this point, through the trees, Arthur could see the light from an upstairs windows.

“I should be able to come up from the back unnoticed and keep an eye on the side and the rear of the house. You go on up the drive to the front, and I’ll give a whistle to let you know I’m in position before you knock on the door.”

Merlin started into the brush without even waiting for Arthur to answer, so Arthur reluctantly left his partner behind to go back toward the driveway. Before starting toward the house, he opened the boot of the car to retrieve a camera with a night vision lens. Because the house was not visible from the road at all, he suspected there was no outdoor lighting.

He approached the house slowly, careful not to make any noise. The light he had seen through the woods was from a room at the rear corner upstairs. As he waited for Merlin’s signal, Arthur took several photos of the house, focusing on the doors and windows. Soon, however, he heard a whistle through the trees he would have sworn was a bird had he not already been expecting the signal from his partner. That birdcall was a useful skill; he would have to ask Merlin to teach him how to do that later.

Arthur stepped up to the front door, rang the bell and then stepped back again, so he could watch through the window beside the door for any movement inside the house. He couldn’t see anything until a light was switched on, and, although curtains covered the window, he could see a shadow walking casually across the room.

A young woman, probably in her mid-twenties opened the door. She was dressed in a simple navy T-shirt and jeans, her long hair was dark and straight, and she was wearing little make-up, although she did have a piercing in her right nostril. On the drive from South Bucks, Arthur had searched online for a photograph of their suspect, but he was not able to find a picture of a Jody Beecham who was the right age and lived in the UK.

“Good evening.” Arthur held out his ID to identify himself. “I’m DI Arthur Pendragon with the Camelot CID. We’ve been tracking a missing person, and we have reason to believe she might be in this area.”

He reached into his pocket to pull out a photograph of Charlotte Swift. “Have you seen this woman?”

Arthur watched the woman at the door carefully to gauge her reaction as she looked down at the photo he held out. She was standing unnaturally still all of a sudden, although her breathing seemed to quicken. She stared for a few seconds and then shook her head stiffly.

“I haven’t seen her.” Her voice sounded a bit shaky to Arthur. “Sorry.”

She started to close the door, so Arthur reached into his pocket again to get one of his cards with his contact information to hand to her.

“If you do see her, please give me a call.”

The woman was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and she did not reach for the card he extended toward her.

“Her name is Charlotte, and we’re just trying to get her home.” Arthur continued, hoping to make her feel some regret that might cause her to reveal her guilt. “Her husband and her little girl miss her, and we know she wants to get home to them.”

A sudden crash from the rear of the house caused the woman to jump, and she whipped her head toward the sound. Arthur looked beyond her to see if he could discover the source of the sound, but she shifted to block his view.

“That’s my dog. I need to go check on him.” She snatched the card from Arthur’s hand. “I’ll let you know if I see that woman.”

Before she could close the door, however, the room suddenly went dark and silent, as if the power to the house had been shut off. Arthur heard a voice call out from upstairs, and the woman in the doorway panicked. She shoved past Arthur and bolted away from the house.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted to his partner as he regained his balance and tore across the porch after her.

Arthur chased her down the driveway as a police car pulled into the drive. The woman turned and started running toward the woods between her house and the road, but she didn’t get far. Before the car had completely stopped, Mithian jumped out of the passenger side and tackled the woman to the ground. Arthur slowed down and thanked Mithian as she stood up and pulled the woman to her feet.

“No problem.” Mithian smiled. “I know you detectives aren’t as light on your feet as us beat cops.”

Percival had parked the car and was trotting over to join them, so Arthur called out, “Very funny. Hold her for me, would you?”

And he started back toward the house to find Merlin. He felt like the woman’s fleeing gave him just cause to search the house, but before he even got to the porch, he noticed the lights on the first floor had returned. And as he entered the front door, he found the three missing women already standing in the living room and Merlin starting to untie Charlotte’s hands from behind her back.

Arthur couldn’t help breathing out a deep sigh of relief to see them all safe. He approached Amanda Garrett to untie her hands, but he turned to look at Merlin.

“What happened?” He asked his partner.

“I was waiting behind the house, watching the back door and the sides of the house, when I heard someone knocking on the upstairs window.” He patted Charlotte’s back as he finished untying her and moved to untie Vivian. “When Jody went downstairs to answer the door, Vivian looked out the window and saw me, so she knocked to get my attention.”

Having finished untying Amanda, Arthur took a look into the kitchen, which was where he and Jody had heard the crashing sound earlier. There was a door open to the back garden, and some broken dishes on the floor.

“Did you break in?” Arthur wondered as he flipped the light switch on and then off again. “And did you cut the power, Merlin?”

Merlin was having trouble loosening the knots on the rope around Vivian’s wrists. Arthur noticed his hands shaking. He walked over and gently pulled Merlin’s hands away, so he could untie the rope.

Merlin gave him a half-smile. “The door was unlocked, but I bumped into a stack of dishes on the edge of the counter. And I didn’t cut the power. I just turned the lights off for the living room.”

That didn’t sound right to Arthur, though. If Jody was keeping hostages in her house, surely she would lock all the doors. And the change in sound as well as the loss of light seemed to indicate the power for the entire house had been cut, but he didn’t push the issue.

“Where’s Jody?” Vivian Norris asked as she rubbed her wrists after Arthur pulled the rope from them.

“Our colleagues are holding her outside.” Arthur answered, and he motioned toward the door. “Let’s get you out of here,” he said to the three women. “We’ll take you to the hospital just to make sure everything’s okay, and if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get a statement from each of you there.”

“I want to call my husband.” Charlotte spoke up, voice wavering.

“So do I,” chimed in both Amanda and Vivian.

Merlin helped guide the women out the door. “Tell you what, I’ll let you use my mobile on the way to the hospital. You can each call your husbands to let them know you’re okay.”

“Have you seen Andrew? Have you talked to him?” Charlotte was crying now. “And my baby? My Abby? Is she okay?”

“They’re okay. They’re staying with your mother.” Merlin answered as he helped her down the porch steps. “They’re worried about you, but they’re okay.”

Charlotte gave a sob, and Amanda started to ask about her family, but then Vivian apparently caught sight of Jody standing with Percival and Mithian.

“How could you do this?” She started charging toward her captor. “You bitch!”

Arthur grabbed Vivian before she could get to Jody, because, although he understood Vivian’s anger, he knew if she attacked Jody now, the chances of getting a conviction against her later in court would lessen.

“I hope you’re happy! You’ve made our whole families miserable. Do you feel better now? You were a nobody at school, so you have to do this to make yourself feel important?” Arthur’s strong grip held her back from physically attacking, but he didn’t even try to prevent her from hurling angry words at the woman who had kidnapped them and held them here all this time. “I hope you rot in jail!”

Arthur continued to physically guide Vivian down the driveway toward where Merlin’s car was parked on the street. Merlin and the other two women followed.

“Arrest her and take her to the station.” Arthur called to Mithian. “We’re headed to the hospital, but we’ll be back later tonight to question her.”

After the doctors examined the women and declared they were healthy, if a bit shaken, Merlin and Arthur questioned each one. Merlin was particularly interested in hearing Charlotte’s account of how Jody took her from her home because the evidence reminded him so much of the night his father was abducted, but Arthur knew he had to be careful not to let his partner guide her testimony.

“It was Sunday afternoon, and Abby was taking her nap. Andrew had to run to the office for a couple of hours, so I was just taking the opportunity to relax a bit.” Charlotte gave a sad smile. “The doorbell rang, and I wasn’t expecting anyone, but there was Jody. She looked so different than she did at school, but I recognized her right away. I’ve always felt so bad about how we treated her.”

Charlotte shook her head and sighed. “Anyway, there she was on my doorstep with her husband.”

“Her husband?” Merlin asked, and Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. Vivian Norris and Amanda Garrett had not mentioned seeing Jody’s husband.

“Well,” Charlotte started. “She said he was her husband. He had sort of scruffy, light brown hair and a moustache and beard. He didn’t talk at all. And I never saw him at the house where she kept us. Which was kind of weird, I guess.”

She shrugged. “So, like I said, we were horrible to Jody, and I wanted to apologise, so I asked her if they’d like to come in for some tea. She said she would, but almost as soon as they got in, she started asking me about some crystal she had at school that she thought Vivian and us had stolen from her.”

“I didn’t even remember it. Viv did, but she said she tossed it in a bin after Jody attacked her at school, but Jody wouldn’t believe her.” Letting out a frightened sob, Charlotte continued. “She kept asking us about that crystal the whole time she had us on the floor of her house. She kept saying we couldn’t go home until she got her crystal back.”

Merlin and Arthur exchanged a glance. Both Vivian and Amanda had said the same thing. Jody was obsessed with the crystal she believed they stole from her in high school. Like Charlotte, Amanda had no memory of the stolen crystal at all, but Vivian admitted to taking the crystal from Jody’s rucksack all those years ago as a joke. She said she had intended to give it back at the end of the day, but after the fight in the lunchroom when Jody had thrown her against the wall, she decided to throw it away instead.

“Back at your house, on Sunday afternoon, what happened after you told her you didn’t remember the crystal?” Arthur prompted Charlotte to continue her account of the actual kidnapping.

Charlotte shook her head. “Well, she said I was lying. And she needed the crystal. And then her husband grabbed me from behind and…”

“Yes?” Merlin was leaning forward, sitting on the edge of his seat. It was all Arthur could do not to put his hand on Merlin’s jiggling knee and tell him to calm down.

“I don’t really know what happened next.” Charlotte looked confused. “The next thing I knew, we were standing outside that house in the country. I think he must have drugged me or something.”

Merlin’s shoulders sank, and he let out a sort of stilted sigh. Arthur knew he was disappointed Charlotte’s testimony didn’t show any indication of paranormal activity. Merlin so desperately wanted someone to validate his theory that his own father had been abducted by magic, and the evidence from this case had given him such hope. Arthur hated to see his partner looking so crushed, but he thought it would probably be better if Merlin could accept that the most likely chain of events in this case was Jody and the man with her had drugged Charlotte and then set up the room to look like something mysterious had happened to throw the police off their track.

By the time they got back to the station, Jody Beecham had already been processed, and Percival was keeping her in a holding cell, waiting for Arthur and Merlin to interrogate her. When they spoke to her, they discovered that the crystal she believed Vivian had stolen from her at school was a gift from her father. He had recently passed away, and she desperately wanted the crystal back.

After their interview, Arthur returned Jody to her cell and then joined Merlin in his office. Merlin sat at his desk, cradling a framed photograph in his hands, and he did not look up when Arthur walked in, so Arthur perched on the edge of Merlin’s desk.

“Who’s that?” He pointed at the man in Merlin’s photo, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

“It’s my father.” Biting his lip, Merlin placed the frame carefully on his desk next to his monitor. “Did you notice the tattoo on Jody Beecham’s arm?”

Arthur nodded.

“The man who took my father had the same tattoo.” Merlin opened a folder on his desk and pulled out a drawing of the symbol that was tattooed on Jody Beecham’s forearm. “It’s a dragon formed from Celtic knots. It’s a symbol of strength.” Merlin stared at the symbol with a sigh.

Reaching across his partner to close the folder, Arthur pointed out, “Stealing mothers and fathers from their families seems more cowardly than strong to me.”

Nodding slowly, Merlin looked up at Arthur. “Thank you for bypassing procedure tonight. I just wanted to get in there and help those women.”

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out.” Arthur stood and started toward the door. “I’m calling it a night. Oh, I’m meant to tell you… A whole group of cops go down to the pub on Friday nights, and Gwaine said I should invite you to join us.”

Merlin looked up, interested. “Gwaine’s the one with the great hair, right?”

“I guess.” Arthur shrugged.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Merlin grinned broadly. “I’ll be there. Thanks!”

As Arthur walked up the stairs, he wondered why he suddenly had a slightly resentful ache in the pit of his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few days, Arthur spent most of his time sitting in the basement office reading through Merlin’s old case files to get a better idea of how his new partner approached an investigation. Arthur believed a cooperative approach worked best in police work, and he liked to know what sorts of interview techniques his partner used and how they pieced together clues from the evidence.

The rumours that swirled through the department about DI Spooky were confirmed as Arthur read through the files. Merlin’s case files were as strange as Arthur had heard. Occasionally while he was reading a file, he couldn’t resist ribbing Merlin about a case.

“Shape shifters? Really?”

Merlin looked up from his computer. “It was pretty ingenious, actually. They murdered a couple of drug dealers and then took their shapes and raised their prices, extorting thousands of dollars from their customers before they were caught.”

“Merlin, how can you possibly believe they actually changed shape? Your only witnesses were high as kites!”

But Merlin only smiled in response.

That afternoon, Arthur found another file filled with evidence that seemed ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel. “A blade enchanted to magically seek out its target?”

“He threw that knife from the opposite side of a crowded pub! There’s no other explanation!”

A couple of hours later, Arthur laughed right out loud when he read the notes from another case. “A love potion gone wrong! Merlin, it’s a wonder Bayard didn’t toss you out months ago. How can you turn in reports like this?”

“Just stating the facts.” Merlin shrugged.

But the more Arthur read of Merlin’s case files, the more he noticed an odd pattern. In almost every single case, the culprit was caught in a way that seemed extremely lucky.

“The man who choked his victims from across the room? And no officers could even get within ten metres of him?”

Arthur mentioned the case from two months ago, and Merlin nodded in recognition. His report claimed the man simply closed his fist and the victim felt a tightening pressure on his or her throat. Although, Arthur suspected the man released a noxious gas into the air, affecting the airways of those within a certain proximity.

“You just happened to find him asleep on his stoop and putting his hands in cuffs behind his back stopped his ability to choke those around him?” Arthur stared at Merlin who shifted slightly on his stool as he examined a set of prints under a microscope.

“Right. Luck was on our side that night!”

One time Merlin and several other detectives from the department had been trying to find an eighteen year old girl who had disappeared while walking home from work one evening. The other detectives followed phone records and emails leading to her ex-boyfriend, but Merlin seemingly randomly decided she had walked across the park and into the woods beyond. He found her holed up in a cabin with an older man she had met at the restaurant where she waited tables. She had fallen for him, but was afraid her parents wouldn’t approve.

“You didn’t mention anything in the case notes about following a trail through the park. How did you know where to go? Were there footprints? Did she drop something? Were there broken branches indicating she had gone into the woods?” Arthur questioned his partner.

Merlin looked up, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I didn’t write anything down? I’m sure it was something like that.”

One might be tempted to believe Merlin used underhanded or possibly illegal techniques to obtain evidence or track down culprits, but Arthur felt like he knew Merlin at least well enough to know he wouldn’t endanger a guilty verdict by bending the rules. Either Merlin was the luckiest detective in the department, or there was something else happening in these cases Arthur could not pinpoint.

As they neared the end of the work day on Friday, Arthur found himself watching Merlin more and more as he sifted through evidence and completed reports. Arthur was still trying to decipher the puzzle that was his new partner. Although Arthur didn’t believe Merlin would break the law to crack a case, he could tell he wasn’t being completely honest about the details of his methods of tracking and apprehending suspects. He hoped Merlin would soon feel comfortable sharing his techniques with Arthur. He closed and refiled the notes he had been reading and then stood up and stretched. Perhaps spending some time together outside the office would help Merlin open up a bit.

“You still up for pub night with the gang?” He asked Merlin, who was typing on the computer and had not even looked up when Arthur stood.

Blinking as he tore his gaze from the screen, Merlin quirked his head to the side as if trying to process Arthur’s question, and Arthur couldn’t help thinking of a startled kitten. With a slight chuckle, Arthur kept that thought to himself, but stepped closer to bump his fist on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Come on, mate.” He couldn’t help flashing his best crooked grin. “We could both do with a break, and I want to see if you can hold your own against Gwaine and his intense interrogation of pub newcomers. Judging from these cases I’ve been reading, you might actually be able to stump him.”

Good Lord. Arthur was openly flirting with his partner, and he hadn’t even started drinking yet. Maybe pub night was a bad idea until he got his wildly inappropriate crush under control. Unfortunately, Merlin shrugged, returning Arthur’s flirty grin as he stood and locked his computer.

“Oh, I’m ready for anything Gwaine throws at me.”

Merlin waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Arthur’s stomach clenched. Lovely. First flirting. Now jealousy. What was Arthur getting himself into?

*****

They walked down the street toward the pub and caught up with Lance and Gwaine on their way. Arthur made introductions all around, and Gwaine immediately started in on Merlin.

“So Merlin, you didn’t grow up in Camelot, did you?” He leaned back and ran his eyes over Merlin from top to toe. “You’ve got a country boy look about you.”

Merlin held his hands wide and deadpanned, “You got me. I grew up in a cave. My mother was a milkmaid, and I tended sheep as a wee toddler.”

Gwaine threw his head back, cackling. “You’re all right, Merlin.”

They arrived at the pub and met up with Percival, Mithian and Lance’s fiancée, Gwen. This time, Gwaine made the introductions, which, for some reason, irked Arthur. Especially when Gwaine introduced Merlin and Gwen and casually tossed out, “She’s engaged to Lance now, but let’s never forget that Arthur had her first!”

Arthur noticed Merlin raise his eyes briefly at the mention that he and Gwen used to date, but he quickly recovered and put his hand out to shake hers. Their brief dating history was not mentioned again that evening, but Arthur was oddly bothered that Merlin was now under the impression that Arthur dated girls. Which he did, of course, but not exclusively.

After they all got drinks and sat down, Gwen turned to Merlin. “So tell us a little about yourself, Merlin.”

Gwaine leaned forward and stage whispered, “I wouldn’t mention the sheep, mate!”

But Merlin just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and told everyone that he was originally from a smaller town called Ealdor, but he moved to Camelot when he decided to become a detective.

“Opportunities were limited in our constabulary, so I came here to train and take the exams.”

“There are several large cities nearer to Ealdor. What made you decide on Camelot?” Mithian wondered.

Merlin gave a modest shrug. “Well, actually, the department sort of recruited me. DCS Bayard approached my superintendent looking for candidates to be detectives, and I guess he was impressed with my record. Anyway, that was four years ago, and here I am!”

“Do you like living in Camelot?”

Gwen and Mithian continued asking Merlin questions with Gwaine occasionally interjecting with increasingly personal questions, most of which Merlin dodged. But as they chatted, Arthur reflected on how odd it was that Bayard had assigned Arthur to evaluate Merlin’s work, considering he was the one who had sought Merlin out in the first place.

As the evening wore on, the focus shifted from newcomer, Merlin, and everyone settled into their usual patterns for pub night. Lance and Gwen increasingly overlapped one another, until they were almost a single, disgustingly sappy, unit. Percival found a nice, quiet young woman to chat up. Mithian and Gwaine placed bets on who could collect the most phone numbers and then proceeded to make their way around the pub, leaving no single man or woman safe from their flirting.

Merlin shifted over to sit next to Arthur, nudging his shoulder with his own. “Your friends are nice. Thanks for including me tonight.”

The warm, muggy atmosphere of the pub and Arthur’s slight tipsiness from his third pint of beer combined to make his cheeks flush embarrassingly quickly. He nudged Merlin’s shoulder back. “No problem. I’m glad I made you come.”

And then Merlin giggled, and Arthur ordered a large glass of water, because the sound of Merlin giggling at his inadvertent double entendre was just a bit too much for him to handle in his tipsy state.

*****

After that night at the pub, Arthur’s friends on the force seemed to accept that, in spite of his penchant for seeking out the odd and mysterious, Merlin was a good guy, and they stopped ribbing Arthur for being banished to the basement. Several of the other detectives, however, took their cues from DS Valiant and still gave Merlin — and now by extension, Arthur — a hard time around the station.

Their next case did nothing to slow the taunting they received at work. They investigated a mysterious death in the warehouse district. The victim had been plastered against a wall with some sort of sticky webbing. When they found and captured the culprit, ironically trapped by the same webbing as he tried to escape, he claimed he had magically enlarged a spider to carry out his attack. But the man worked in the development department of a company that produced adhesives, so Arthur suspected he was trying to protect a product that was not yet patented, as well as hoping for some sort of insanity defence.

Arthur was becoming more at ease in his partnership with Merlin. In fact, he had even debated bringing a coffee maker from home to prepare his morning cup in the office he now all but officially shared with Merlin, so he could avoid having to make small talk with the detectives who childishly enjoyed taunting him. But, for now, he stubbornly continued to visit the break room every morning before heading downstairs. The morning after their most recent arrest, Arthur entered the room braced for the onslaught of jokes he knew would come.

“Look who it is! It’s Spooky Junior!” Even though Arthur was expecting it, Valiant’s singsong voice was particularly grating this morning.

“Hey Spooky Junior, are you sure you got the right guy? Spider-man is supposed to be the hero! Shouldn’t you be going after the Green Goblin or Doctor Octopus?”

Arthur grit his teeth and nodded along, with an indulgent smile. He reached for his mug and began pouring his coffee. But Valiant wasn’t finished.

“I think I saw Aunt May at the front desk trying to post bail.”

His buddies laughed, so Arthur waved his hand for Valiant to continue. “Come on! You’ve got fifty years’ worth of comic books and films to draw from. Aunt May posting bail? Is that all you’ve got?”

Valiant narrowed his eyes, clearly furious Arthur was mocking him in return. “I heard Spooky tried to find the radioactive spider, so he could have powers, because he was tired of being a pathetic loser.”

Arthur’s blood began to boil. Carefully, he placed his coffee on the counter and slid his laptop bag off his shoulder. He took three steps forward, fixing Valiant with a threatening glare, causing him to stumble back until he bumped into the refrigerator. Arthur pressed forward until his chest was almost touching Val’s.

“Merlin Emrys is a bigger man than you will ever be, William Valiant.”

Arthur stood his ground for several seconds, glowering at Valiant, daring him to respond, before he backed off, picked up his laptop and his coffee and wordlessly stalked out of the room. It wasn’t the first time Valiant had insulted Merlin, but for some reason, his calling Merlin pathetic had made Arthur angrier than any of his previous jabs.

Now that he had gotten to know Merlin, Arthur felt he had never met someone more clever or more kind. Merlin was the sort of person who would devote all his energy toward helping anyone in need. He would follow evidence until his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and he would put himself in harm’s way to prevent someone else from getting hurt. Men like Valiant would never understand someone like Merlin, because they were used to looking out for themselves above all others, and Merlin always put others first.

Descending the steps to the basement, Arthur found himself smiling, thinking of how lucky he was that Bayard had decided to give him this assignment. In addition to the feeling of satisfaction he got from helping the victims of the bizarre crimes they investigated, Arthur was genuinely enjoying working with and getting to know Merlin. Not that he would tell Merlin any of this, he thought, chuckling under his breath as he imagined Merlin’s goofy, embarrassed grin if he found out what had happened in the break room.

Still chuckling to himself, Arthur stepped into the office to find Merlin on the phone, a sombre look on his face. Arthur started to remove his jacket, but Merlin signalled for him to wait.

“Thank you. We’ll head over there right now.” Merlin hung up the phone and tore a page off his notepad. He stood and shrugged on his own jacket. “We’ve got a missing child.”

Arthur’s heart sank. Missing children were some of the worst kinds of cases.

“Ten-year-old boy. Left the house this morning to walk to school, but he never made it.” Merlin led the way out of the office toward the stairs, walking briskly and explaining the details he had received about the case along the way. “His mother — a single mother — said that most mornings she watches him walk to the end of the street until he meets up with a friend, and then she feels comfortable letting the two of them walk the few blocks to the school. But today, she was on the phone, so she let him leave the house alone. His friend waited at the end of the street for him, but he didn’t show up, so the kid assumed he was sick and left without him.”

“Did anyone see him walking down the street this morning?” Arthur asked as they passed through the police station lobby. “Did he get into a car or walk away with someone?”

“That’s all the information I have.” Merlin was fumbling through his pockets for his keys with one hand, and Arthur noticed the hand holding his notes was shaking. “We need to go talk with his mum and the neighbours.”

As Merlin tried to get hold of the key fob to unlock his car, he dropped the keys onto the ground, and then he couldn’t seem to get a proper hold of the door handle. Reaching over and gently prying the keys from his hand, Arthur offered, “Why don’t I drive? You can call the boy’s school and find out if they can pinpoint the approximate time his friend arrived. That way we can start building a timeline.”

Merlin refused to meet Arthur’s eyes and walked around to the passenger side of the car with his head down. The entire way to the boy’s house, even as he spoke to the secretary at the primary school, Merlin’s leg was jiggling up and down. Arthur was tempted to reach over and place his hand on Merlin’s knee to help calm his nerves, but he knew missing child cases had a tendency to affect officers in profound ways, and perhaps being so on edge that he was literally shaking was Merlin’s way of staying focused.

When they arrived at the address Merlin had been given, a woman answered the door and indicated she was a friend of the family and lived next door. The first officers on the scene were Gwaine and Lancelot. Lance was sitting at the kitchen table interviewing the boy’s mother, while Gwaine searched the house for any evidence that might help them locate the boy.

Lance stood when Merlin and Arthur entered the room. “Ms. Lewis, this is DI Emrys and DI Pendragon. They’re the detectives who have been assigned to help find your son.”

The woman sitting at the table looked up at them with pleading eyes. “He’s only ten years old.”

Without hesitation, Merlin dropped to a knee beside her and took her hands in his. “We will do everything we can to find your son, Ms. Lewis. Tell me a little bit about him. What’s his name?”

“His name is Mordred.” Her voice quavered as she spoke. “He has dark hair. He’s short for his age. He’s not quite 140 cm.”

Merlin nodded and then gave her a smile. “Tell me how he likes to spend his time. Does he have mates in the neighbourhood? Does he like to run around outside? Does he spend a lot of time on the computer or on his phone?”

Tears spilled down Ms. Lewis’s cheek, but she smiled as she thought about her son. “His best friend lives one street over, and they used to practically live in the tree in our back garden. Lately, though, they’ve been more interested in video games. They Skype while they play Minecraft together on the computer.”

“And does Mordred have a mobile phone?” Merlin spoke gently, allowing this frightened mother to converse easily about her son. Arthur could tell Merlin was pressing her for information that might indicate whether the young man had been kidnapped or had run off on his own, but the way Merlin asked the questions enabled Ms. Lewis to feel comfortable, like she was talking to a friend about her child rather than giving evidence to the police.

“He does.” She nodded vigorously. “I tried calling it already, but it goes straight to voicemail. It must either be turned off or the battery is dead.”

Now Merlin looked thoughtful. “Does he use it for games? Or for Skyping or texting with his mates?”

Ms. Lewis shook her head. “Oh, no. He can’t. It’s my old flip phone. I gave it to him for emergencies. It doesn’t get internet or even have a texting plan. He only uses it to ring me when he needs to stay after school or if he’s going round his friend’s house for dinner.”

Merlin glanced up at Arthur. Sometimes missing kids could be found using phone or text records indicating communication with the parent they didn’t live with or with a friend, but it seemed unlikely they’d find such a trail in this case. Although, they would still check his computer for email communications that might contain clues.

“Arthur, I’m going to stay here and talk with Ms. Lewis and help Gwaine search Mordred’s room. Will you and Lance go canvass the neighbourhood? Find out if anyone saw Mordred or anything out of the ordinary this morning.”

Arthur had Lance start with the houses close to the Lewis’s, while he walked down to the corner where Mordred usually met his friend. There was no answer at the first three houses Arthur tried. This time of morning, most people would either be at work or still sleeping, but in case someone had seen the boy this morning, Arthur kept knocking on doors.

Around the corner from Mordred and his friend’s meeting spot, Arthur spoke to an elderly woman who peeked out around the door rather than opening it all the way. Behind her, Arthur could hear what sounded like a small dog yapping, claws clicking excitedly on the linoleum.

“Yes! I saw the young man this morning.” She turned for a moment and hissed at her dog to quiet down. “I was out walking Mitzi, and he just strolled right past us. He wouldn’t even say hello! He stared straight ahead and didn’t even turn. And he always comes over to pet Mitzi and give her kisses. Such a sweet boy.”

When Arthur asked which direction Mordred was walking, the woman pointed the opposite direction from the school, and she again emphasized that he had not even seemed to hear her talking to him. Afterward, Arthur tried the remaining houses, but either no one was home, or the occupants had not seen Mordred all morning, so he returned to the Lewis house.

Lance only found one woman who had seen Mordred. But his witness reported seeing the boy walking toward the corner as normal. Something must have happened that caused him to turn the wrong direction at the end of the street and to completely ignore his elderly neighbour and her dog.

Arthur found Merlin in Mordred’s room, sitting on his bed and staring at the screen of his laptop, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “What did you find?”

“Nothing in his email. No interactions with anyone suspicious. No mention of wanting to run away.” But Merlin’s tone didn’t indicate he had reached a dead end.

“But there is something?” Arthur sat on the bed beside his partner so he could see the screen.

Merlin was looking through Mordred’s browser history. Many of the websites listed mentioned magic in their title.

“His mum said he liked video games. Are these related to some sort of fantasy game?” Arthur wondered as Merlin scrolled through the list.

But Merlin shook his head. “No. These aren’t fantasy or fictional…” He turned to look at Arthur. “Ms. Lewis told me she left Mordred’s father shortly after Mordred was born because of religious differences. She found out he was into some ‘freaky nature religion.’ Her words. And she didn’t want her son brought up that way. She said they haven’t had any contact with him in years.”

Arthur nodded slowly. “But perhaps Mordred started wondering about his father — what he was like, what he believed. Makes sense. Ten-year-old boy who’s grown up without his dad around.”

“Maybe.” Merlin looked thoughtful. “I want to take this laptop back to the station and check out some of these websites and have our IT guys make sure there weren’t any other communications I might have missed.”

Arthur spent the day coordinating search efforts with the uniformed officers as well as trying to locate Mordred’s father. Ms. Lewis had no contact information, and searches for his name produced no results. Most likely he had changed his name years ago, possibly wanting to disappear.

Meanwhile, Merlin printed Mordred’s browser history before passing the laptop over to IT. He spent the entire day poring over the websites the boy had visited. He wouldn’t take a break for lunch, and even when Arthur brought him take-away from his favourite restaurant down the street, Merlin didn’t touch it. He let the burger sit on his desk getting cold.

By seven o’clock, Arthur was starting to get a little worried. “Merlin, I know you want to find this kid. I do, too. But I’m not sure you’re going about it the right way. These websites may have nothing to do with his disappearance.”

Merlin’s eyes were glazed, and he did not even appear to have heard Arthur.

“His mother made an appeal on the news tonight, and Bayard approved putting Mordred’s information out on the Child Rescue Alert system, so his face is all over social media right now. Hopefully someone will see him and report in. Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to track down the estranged father. No luck, yet, so I could use your help.” Arthur leaned down to try to catch Merlin’s eye. “I think a night’s sleep will help us both focus better, and maybe tomorrow we can locate the father. Merlin?”

Not even a grunt.

“Fine. I hope you at least put your head down on the desk for a couple of hours. Otherwise you will be useless tomorrow.” Arthur stalked out of the office, feeling more angry with his partner than he had since the first day they met.

*****

The combination of frustration with Merlin and worry about the ten-year-old child they were trying to find made for a restless night for Arthur. As he walked into the police station the next morning, feeling stiff and sore from tossing and turning all night long, he was so dazed he didn’t even notice DCS Bayard marching toward him until he was almost in Arthur’s face.

“What the hell is that partner of yours playing at?” He was hissing and pulling Arthur away from the main lobby as if he did not want to be overheard.

“I don’t…” Arthur held his hands up. “Last I knew he was going through Mordred’s internet history.”

“We got calls all night from frightened residents of the Lewis’s neighbourhood asking whether they were in danger. Wondering what we’re keeping from them.”

Arthur scrunched his face in confusion. What had Merlin done?

“Apparently DI Emrys spent the whole night patrolling up and down the street, staring at the houses and, according to a couple of irate callers, digging into flowerbeds.”

“Digging into…?”

What the hell was Merlin thinking? Arthur knew this case was getting to him, but it was starting to sound like his partner had gone off the deep end.

“Is he still out there?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. And you better hope you get to him before I get any more calls, Pendragon.” Bayard shoved past Arthur and stalked toward his office.

With a heavy sigh, Arthur headed back toward the car park so he could get to Merlin before he did any more harm to their case. As he drove, he wondered what might have led Merlin to take such action. Perhaps he had found something on one of those magic websites that made him believe whoever took Mordred might come back to take another child.

When he arrived at the Lewis’s street, Arthur found Merlin sitting on the kerb in front of the house on the corner examining an evidence bag of what looked like concrete dust. Arthur parked the car and walked over to sit beside his partner.

“What’s that?” He asked gently, deciding a confrontation might not be the best approach to get Merlin to open up to him about what he had been doing all night.

Merlin looked at him with dull, almost grey eyes, weary from lack of sleep and too many hours staring at a computer screen. “He’s been tracking him.”

“Tracking Mordred?” Arthur wasn’t certain how concrete dust could be used to track someone. “Who’s been tracking him?”

“Druidmaster24.” Merlin’s voice was flat, and his eyes returned to the bag of dust he held swinging before him.

Arthur’s eyebrows shot upward. “Someone from those websites? Was Mordred in contact with this druidmaster person?”

“I think so.” Merlin dropped the hand holding the evidence bag to his side and rubbed his eyes with the other hand. “Druidmaster24 runs a blog about how magic has not disappeared from the world, and certain individuals can still harness its power. He talks a lot about ancient Druidic literature. Anyway, on at least forty of his entries, I found comments from an amimagic05. The comments read like they might have been written by a child. And if Mordred was curious about magic, the username would make sense. Am I magic?”

“And he was born in 2005.” Arthur had to admit Merlin’s obsessive internet searching the day before seemed not to have been wasted time, after all. “So who is this blog guy, and what makes you think he’s been tracking Mordred?”

“I don’t know who he is, yet. But he’s been using this dust to track Mordred’s movements. There’s a whole layer of it around Mordred’s front porch, so he would have to walk through it each time he exits the house. It sticks to his shoes and leaves an imprint wherever he walks which would be easy for someone like Druidmaster24 to follow.”

When Arthur opened his mouth to express doubt that the dust would stay on a child’s shoes long enough to track his movements more than a few metres, Merlin waved his hands.

“Look, I know you don’t believe me, but can you just think of it like a sticky powder, leaving a residue that glows in a certain kind of light?”

Merlin’s tone was weary, so Arthur decided to forgo the lack of scientific evidence for the moment and simply go along with the story Merlin had created.

“Okay, so you think Druidmaster24 has been tracking Mordred for a while? Perhaps he was waiting for a morning when his mother wasn’t watching him walk down the street?” Arthur’s heart started pounding as he followed this line of thought. “Merlin, you read their interactions on his blog. Do you believe this guy is a paedophile?”

Merlin sighed, dropping his head onto his knees. His voice was muffled as he answered. “I don’t know. He wasn’t trying to get Mordred to trust him. He wasn’t pushing for personal information. All they talked about was magic.”

Raising his head again, Merlin turned toward Arthur. “Mordred… or amimagic05, whoever that is, stated on the blog that he was able to make objects fly across a room without touching them and that one time when he lost his temper and shouted at his mother, a window broke in the next room.”

“Ms. Lewis didn’t mention that.” Arthur was starting to wonder whether Mordred was making up lies on the blog to get attention.

“She might have assumed someone threw a rock at it, or something.” Merlin shrugged. “Anyway, after the kid on the blog admitted that, Druidmaster started showing more interest, asking questions about when his magic first emerged and what else he could do. He seemed to believe Mordred was a fairly powerful sorcerer, considering his age and abilities.”

Even though Arthur didn’t believe the child they were searching for could do magic, it seemed possible this Druidmaster did. This belief and the interest he had shown in the child’s abilities might be enough motive for him to abduct the boy. Arthur was trying to figure out whether his and Merlin’s time would be better spent tracking down this lead or continuing to search for the boy’s estranged father, when Merlin spoke again.

“It’s been twenty-four hours.” His voice broke on the last two words, and he dropped his head onto his knees again.

Missing children were always emotionally challenging cases, but Merlin’s intense reaction to this case puzzled Arthur. He knew from their first case Merlin had a tendency to empathise deeply with victims, so perhaps Merlin was putting himself in the place of the distraught mother whose son had been taken. But Arthur also knew the best way to solve these cases efficiently was to remain somewhat detached and objective.

Leaning forward, Arthur draped his arm around Merlin’s back and spoke gently, but firmly. “Merlin, we will find him, but we need to stay focused. I think you should try to catch a few hours of sleep. And you need to eat something.”

Arthur began to stand, tugging Merlin’s elbow to help him to his feet. Merlin allowed himself to be pulled up, but he kept his head down for a moment, as if he needed more time to gather himself. But when he looked up at Arthur again, the despair was gone, and he was all business.

“I want to find out whether someone from IT can track down IP addresses from the blog and its commenters. Maybe there’s a way to pinpoint a location for Druidmaster24 and amimagic05. Or at least be able to tell if amimagic05 was posting from Mordred’s computer. It if is him, we’d have a clear lead to follow.” Merlin was brushing the dust from the seat of his trousers and walking toward Arthur’s car as he spoke. “I also want someone watching Druidmaster’s blog to let me know immediately if he posts again or if amimagic comments again.”

As they got into the car, Arthur handed Merlin a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

Clearly Merlin was not going to go take a nap, but Arthur refused to let his partner completely ignore his basic needs for the sake of the case. After Merlin had taken a few sips, Arthur asked, “Where to?”

“Let’s go to his school. I don’t want to put the other kids on edge, but maybe we could talk to his teachers and find out if they had noticed anything going on with him. Also, we should find out whether he had access to use the school’s computers for communication.”

On the way to the school, Merlin called the station and talked to Elyan in IT about tracing the IP addresses from the Druidmaster’s blog. Elyan seemed optimistic about his ability to track down both users, but he would need a court order first, so Merlin and Arthur made a detour to the courthouse to meet with a judge. Once they had the court order, Elyan started working on uncovering the locations and identities of Druidmaster24 and amimagic05.

Mordred’s teachers were not able to provide much helpful information. He had not mentioned his belief in magic at school, and the school’s computers were locked down to allow access only to certain educational websites. Although, Mordred’s science teacher did mention overhearing a conversation between Mordred and one of his classmates about his father. She said Mordred had told his friend he didn’t remember his father, but he hoped one day to meet him. Arthur felt that information might be significant.

Walking out of the school, Arthur started to tell Merlin he felt like they should spend more time looking for Mordred’s father, but before he had a chance, Merlin’s mobile rang. They continued toward the car as Merlin talked. As soon as Merlin slid into the passenger seat, he turned to Arthur.

“It’s Elyan. They’re still trying to get specifics from amimagic’s ISP, but he has a name and address for Druidmaster24.”

Arthur drove toward the address Merlin gave him. It seemed Merlin’s instinct may have been right, as Cerdan Rowe, aka Druidmaster24, lived in Camelot, only twelve kilometres from Mordred’s house. So it would have been easy for him to stalk the boy he had connected with on his website.

When they arrived at Cerdan’s flat, Merlin almost leapt out of the car before it had completely stopped. Arthur had to run to catch up with him before he busted into the flat on his own.

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed at his partner to stop him from acting so recklessly. “Don’t just…”

But Arthur stopped when he saw Merlin standing outside the door, leaning forward to examine the doorknob and plate, because the door to the flat stood slightly ajar. Merlin turned his head slightly as Arthur approached.

“It was open when I got here.” He murmured, standing back up to push the door open farther.

Arthur followed Merlin into the flat. He called out to identify themselves, but no one answered. The door did not appear to have been forced open, and there were no signs of a struggle inside, so Arthur reckoned Cerdan had left the door open by accident. Although it was also possible he had seen Merlin and Arthur approaching and had fled in a hurry.

Merlin was walking around the flat, checking the kitchen, the bedroom and the loo, so Arthur started examining the items in the living room. A laptop was tossed haphazardly onto the couch, but there was also a small table with a full desktop computer. The coffee table was littered with empty soda cans and wrappers from crisps and biscuits. On a shelf above the telly was a line of framed photographs. One appeared to be an older family photo with two parents and two teenaged boys. Their hairstyles and clothing suggested the photo was taken in the mid-nineties. The rest of the photographs were more recent, however, and the same man appeared with different people in each photo. Arthur supposed that man must be Cerdan Rowe.

“There’s no one here.” Merlin had finished a quick search of the flat. “But there’s a sleeping bag in the floor of the bedroom, as if an extra person has been sleeping here.”

The remains of snacks and drinks on the table did seem a lot for one person. “If Mordred was here, it seems like he might have felt comfortable rather than struggling to get away. The Druidmaster could have lured him here with the promise of teaching him more about magic, like you said. But he still could be a paedophile, trying to gain the boy’s trust.”

“I know.” Merlin’s voice was small.

Together, they searched the room to find any evidence Mordred had been in this flat. They didn’t find anything in the living room, other than the remains of excessive amounts of junk food, but in the bedroom cupboard, Arthur found a rucksack.

“Merlin!” Arthur pulled on gloves before opening it, in case CSI needed to pull prints from the rucksack’s contents. Merlin dashed into the room, nearly tripping over his own feet.

When he saw the rucksack, his eyes grew wide, and he whispered. “Is it his? Is it Mordred’s?”

Arthur laid the rucksack on the bed, so he could carefully remove its contents. The first item he pulled was a green plastic folder filled with papers. As he opened the folder, Merlin came to stand beside him, almost leaning against his back to look over his shoulder. Arthur’s breath caught and he heard Merlin make a noise of surprise when they noted the name at the top of the maths papers spilling out of the folder. Mordred Lewis.

“Arthur.” Merlin caught Arthur’s elbow in a death grip. “He was here.”

Nodding, Arthur simply continued pulling items from Mordred’s rucksack. He found two more folders for writing and for science. There was a library book with a dragon on its cover. He drew out several loose pieces of paper. Flipping through them, Arthur saw drawings of what looked like floorplans for buildings. These were labelled in two different scrawled handwritings with notes like, “lava around side to get mobs” and “build out of obsidian so creeper proof.” Another drawing looked like a skyscraper with a pyramidal roof and a series of numbers along one wall. Ms. Lewis said Mordred liked to play Minecraft, so Arthur supposed the drawings were for the video game. At the bottom of the bag, Arthur found sweet wrappers, six or seven pencils, some coins and two mobile phones.

“Another phone?” Merlin asked. “His mum only mentioned the flip phone.”

Arthur tried to turn the other phone on, but he couldn’t. “Battery must be dead. This is an older phone. I’m not sure I have a charger for this in the car, but they’ll have one at the station. We’ll have to take it back there to find out what he’s been using it for.”

He turned to face Merlin who had both his hands pressed to his cheeks. “He was here, but where is he now, Arthur? Do you think Cerdan knew we were coming?”

“I don’t know.” Arthur gathered Mordred’s school things back into his rucksack to take back to the police station. “Let me call CSI to come sweep this place for evidence, and let’s go see what we can find from his phone.”

But the moment they stepped back into the living room, they heard a piercing scream from outside. Arthur dropped the rucksack, and they both took off at top speed toward the sound. Several neighbours had also heard the scream and were stepping out of their flats looking around in confusion.

A woman came bounding around the corner yelling, “We need help over here! Someone’s been hurt!”

Arthur called out, “Camelot PD!” as he and Merlin ran toward the woman. When they rounded the corner, they found an alleyway between two sections of the block of flats. The woman pointed toward a man slumped against the wall beside the communal bin.

Merlin rushed forward, kneeling before the man as the woman declared she had found him there when she brought out her rubbish. Arthur followed Merlin toward the man, leaning down to glimpse his face.

It was Cerdan Rowe; Arthur recognized him from the photographs in the flat. He was unconscious and surrounded by sacks of groceries. A milk carton had broken open and spilled onto the pavement beside him. His head was slumped against his chest, and his hair was soaked with blood.

Arthur knelt beside Merlin to examine Cerdan. His eyes were closed and his mouth gaped open slightly, but Arthur was relieved to feel a slow pulse on his neck and to see the gentle rise and fall of their suspect’s chest. “He’s still breathing. Merlin, call for an ambulance.”

*****

As they waited for the ambulance to arrive, Arthur stayed beside Cerdan, monitoring his vitals, while Merlin took a statement from the woman who had found him and then called Lancelot and Gwaine to come question the other nearby residents to find out whether they had seen or heard anything of this attack. Merlin took several photos to document the scene of the crime before returning to Cerdan’s flat to gather more evidence. When the paramedics arrived, Arthur called the station to make sure uniformed officers would be stationed at the hospital to guard Cerdan, as he was still their primary suspect for Mordred’s kidnapping. After the ambulance left, Arthur found Merlin leaving the flat in the hands of CSI who had now arrived to give the place a thorough sweep. Merlin was carrying Cerdan’s laptop and Mordred’s rucksack.

“What do you think happened here, Arthur?” Merlin leaned on the wall outside the flat, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Well, from the state of the flat, it seemed like Mordred was treated more like a guest than a hostage.” Arthur shook his head. “So perhaps Cerdan left him here alone while he went out to do the shopping? And then Mordred ran off? I don’t think a ten-year-old child would have the strength to throw a grown man against the wall hard enough to knock him out, though.”

Merlin opened his eyes and looked directly at Arthur. “Unless he used magic.”

Arthur sighed but chose not to push it. He continued with another theory about what happened. “Or perhaps Cerdan took Mordred with him to the grocery store, and Mordred somehow let someone know that this man had abducted him, and they attacked Cerdan?”

“So where’s Mordred?” Merlin asked.

“Right.” Arthur’s brain was whirling through possibilities, and he hadn’t thought his theories all the way through yet. “Or Mordred was in the flat alone, and someone else knew he was there? They attacked Cerdan and then came after Mordred?”

“So the kid was kidnapped from his kidnapper?” Gwaine quipped as he and Lancelot approached.

Merlin pushed off the wall and straightened up again. “Did you find out anything from the neighbours? Did anyone know anything about the attack?”

Both Gwaine and Lancelot shook their heads, and Lance answered, “No one saw or heard anything. And no one had seen Mordred around, either.”

Merlin’s shoulders slumped. He was clearly disappointed they still had no idea where to even begin looking for Mordred. So Arthur took charge again.

“Gwaine, Lancelot, you two stay here and do what you can to help CSI. Let us know if you find anything that might indicate why Cerdan had Mordred here, or why Cerdan was attacked, or where Mordred might be now.”

Gwaine and Lancelot walked into the flat, Gwaine clapping Merlin on the shoulder as he passed. Arthur stepped closer to his partner.

“I think we should go to the hospital and find out whether Cerdan is likely to regain consciousness anytime soon. If he does, I want you and me to be the ones to question him. You can call the station on the way and have them send someone over with a charger for Mordred’s phone. We can dig into that and Cerdan’s laptop to see what we find.”

At first, Merlin simply sighed, staring past Arthur without responding. So Arthur put his hand in the middle of Merlin’s back, rubbing slightly back and forth. He leaned in to murmur quietly to his friend. “I know you’re disappointed we still haven’t found him. I’m disappointed, too. And a little scared.”

Hearing this admission made Merlin finally meet Arthur’s eyes. He nodded, indicating he was scared, too, and Arthur thought he saw the muscles in Merlin’s jaw clench and flex several times as if he were trying not to let his emotions show too much. Arthur put his arm all the way around Merlin’s shoulders and drew him close. Merlin closed his eyes again, so Arthur let his own eyes fall shut as he tilted his head to the side to touch Merlin’s. They stayed close for a few moments, Arthur allowing the warmth of his friend to strengthen him, until he felt ready to face the next steps of this emotional investigation.

As Arthur gave Merlin’s shoulder one last squeeze and pulled away, Merlin glanced up with a hesitant smile, took a deep breath, nodded his resolution and then led the way back to the car.

*****

When they arrived at the hospital, Arthur asked to speak with the doctor who had examined Cerdan Rowe, and Merlin headed to the waiting room to charge the laptop and Mordred’s extra phone. Arthur was hoping Cerdan would have regained consciousness so they would be able to question him.

“Sorry, but I don’t think he’ll be able to speak with you for several hours. Although, it could possibly be days,” the neurologist explained to Arthur. “The CT scan showed bleeding in his brain, and he has not yet regained consciousness, although the amount of bleeding is fairly minor, so it is possible he could wake up tonight. We’ll be running an MRI later, which will give us more information.”

Disappointed, Arthur returned to find his partner staring blankly at his lap where he held Mordred’s phone in one hand and his own in the other. “Cerdan is still unconscious, and the doctor doesn’t know when he’ll wake up and be able to speak. Could be hours. Could be days. What’d you find on the kid’s second phone?”

“Nothing.” Merlin didn’t even look up. “It’s one of those pay-as-you-go phones, so I can’t tell who purchased it, and it either hasn’t been used, or it’s been wiped.”

Arthur slid into the seat next to Merlin with a sigh. “You call for a warrant to get that information from the phone company?”

Nodding slowly, Merlin leaned back and rested his head on the wall. He started rambling to the ceiling. “What if Cerdan Rowe gave Mordred the phone, and they had arranged to meet yesterday morning? And then what if Mordred found out Cerdan wasn’t as knowledgeable about magic as he claimed, and he knocked him out in order to get away?”

“Even if a ten-year-old child could throw a grown man against a well, Merlin, that doesn’t explain why Mordred hasn’t tried to contact his mother or the police, yet. There had to be someone else—“ Arthur was interrupted by a voice calling his name from down the hall.

“Arthur? Is that you?”

He knew the voice even before he looked up to see the tall, dark-haired doctor striding toward him, and his heart dropped into the vicinity of his stomach. Cenred. Arthur hadn’t seen him for more than six years. Not since he had dropped out of medical school and Cenred had broken up with him, saying he couldn’t be associated with a quitter. But the sight of his old boyfriend still caused Arthur’s heart rate to pick up and his palms to start sweating. He stood, subtly swiping his hands across his knees as he did.

“Cenred!” Arthur spoke with a confident enthusiasm he didn’t feel and stuck his hand out boldly. “Good to see you! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Cenred shook his hand but eyed Merlin, who was still seated, glancing up with vague curiosity. Arthur deliberately didn’t introduce them, hoping the interaction would be short.

“Are you visiting a patient in the ICU?” Cenred asked, eyes still cutting sidelong toward Merlin. Arthur secretly hoped Cenred was jealous seeing his ex with this gorgeous man.

Arthur shook his head. “Not exactly. We’re investigating a case, and our suspect is here.”

“Oh right. The detective thing.” Arthur could almost see the air quotes around the word detective as Cenred spoke. “Well, do you have any questions about your suspect’s condition? I could help you out, if you’d like.”

Hands shaking at his sides, Arthur wondered, not for the first time, what he had ever seen in this man. “No, thank you. His doctor showed me his test results, and I’m confident we don’t need to consult with a gastroenterologist on this case.”

“Well, good luck with your suspect, and I hope you’re able to puzzle this one out, Arthur.” The condescension dripping from Cenred’s voice was almost too much to bear, but Arthur ground his teeth and resisted pulling his hands into fists.

But Merlin spoke up. “Oh, he doesn’t need luck. Arthur’s a brilliant detective. Don’t you worry, doctor. He’ll keep the streets of Camelot safe for those who are … not quite as able to defend themselves.”

He leaned forward as he said the last bit, lowering his voice as if to help Cenred save face. Arthur could barely contain his grin as Cenred took a step back and glared at Merlin who simply nodded his confidence in Arthur’s ability to rid Camelot of all criminals.

“Good to see you, Arthur.” Cenred gave him a quick glance without smiling before he continued down the hall.

“What a creep.” Merlin murmured as Arthur returned to his seat. “Let me guess … an old med school rival?”

“Sort of.” Arthur felt his cheeks burn as he watched Cenred until he turned the corner. “An old boyfriend.”

He turned in time to see Merlin’s eyes widen in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before asking, “Boyfriend?”

Arthur smiled. “If you’re wondering what I saw in him, don’t even try to figure it out. I honestly have no idea. He was hot and confident, and that’s about it.”

But Arthur knew it wasn’t Cenred’s obnoxious personality throwing Merlin for a loop. It was the fact that he was a man. He had tried once to tell Merlin he was bi but had been interrupted, and the opportunity had not arisen again. One’s sexuality simply wasn’t a topic that often came up in workplace discussions.

Fortunately, Merlin seemed to get over his shock quickly. “He is hot. I’ll give you that. But arrogant! Your entire relationship must have been one long pissing contest to prove which of you was smarter… stronger… prettier.”

“Shut up, Merlin!” Arthur gave his shoulder a shove. “What are you saying? You think I’m arrogant?”

“Nooo.” Merlin shook his head dramatically. “You are without a doubt the most humble former footy star who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth that I’ve ever known.”

Instead of being offended and teasing back, Arthur just laughed. He was relieved to see Merlin’s cheeks dimpling and eyes twinkling. He had not seen his partner smile for the last two days.

Merlin’s eyes remained on Arthur as his smile faded naturally. He turned to open Cerdan’s laptop, but Arthur thought he saw a hint of colour heating Merlin’s pale cheeks and ears, which in turn caused an excited flutter in Arthur’s stomach. He pulled out his own laptop to check whether the department had been able to access any CCTV recordings near Cerdan Rowe’s flat.

He and Merlin worked on the case for several hours as they waited for their suspect to regain consciousness. At one point, they received word the phone company showed two incoming calls on Mordred’s phone from Cerdan’s number and one outgoing call to the same number. So clearly he and the boy had been in contact outside of their chats on Cerdan’s blog.

“I really do think Mordred went willingly with Cerdan that morning. I think he wanted to learn more about magic.” Merlin told Arthur as he unwrapped a sandwich Arthur had brought from the hospital cafeteria, intending to force Merlin to eat if he had to.

Arthur sighed. They had been going around in circles with theories all evening. “Then why did he walk past his neighbour and her dog as if he didn’t even see them? I think he was threatened and told specifically not to talk to anyone.”

“Right. I forgot about that.” Merlin put the sandwich aside without even taking a bite.

“That’s because you haven’t slept for two days, Merlin! Your brain is turning to mush. Eat your sandwich.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur, but he gave in and ate half of the sandwich before turning back to Cerdan’s laptop. They took turns checking in with the station and checking social media for any news of sightings of Mordred, but no one had reported seeing him anywhere. Exhausted from not sleeping well the previous night and from the stress of the case, Arthur found himself unable to hold his eyes open, and he dozed a bit, stretching his legs in front of him and leaning his head against the back of the hard plastic chair. But every time he roused up, Merlin was still working, either searching for information on the computer or pacing the waiting room talking with anyone currently on duty at the station.

Arthur wondered vaguely as he watched his partner through the haze of sleepiness if Merlin was perhaps some sort of robot who didn’t need to sleep, but then he was jerked awake during the wee hours of the morning as Merlin shouted into his phone.

“What am I supposed to tell his mother? Do you want me to tell her that her son is never coming back because you can’t seem to work a computer properly?”

Suddenly wide awake, Arthur leapt to his feet and strode quickly to Merlin, gently coaxing the phone from his hand. He gave a hasty apology to whoever was on the other end and hung up.

“That’s it, Merlin. I’m taking you home to rest.” He put a hand at the small of Merlin’s back to guide him back to gather their things.

“No.” Merlin jerked away from him. “I can’t. I need to keep working. There’s got to be something we’ve missed.”

“Merlin!” Arthur grabbed his partner by the shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. “You have been awake nearly 48 hours now. You need to sleep, or you will continue missing things. You will not help Mordred by making yourself sick.”

“But…” Merlin still wouldn’t give up.

“Look, you were just shouting on the phone.” Arthur spoke firmly. “That’s not you. You are losing control, and you are losing your ability to focus because you are exhausted. Pick up your things. I’m taking you home.”

*****

Merlin didn’t speak to Arthur at all on the drive to his flat. He sulked in his seat with his arms folded, letting Arthur know he was angry with him, but his head drooped sideways as if he had no energy even to hold it up. Arthur knew how important it was to Merlin to find this child, but he also knew this level of obsession was not healthy.

Afraid Merlin would simply continue working from his computer at home, Arthur followed his partner into his flat and even into his bedroom to make sure he actually took a nap.

“I’m not a child, you know.”

Arthur was glad to see Merlin’s anger had dissipated. He smirked at Arthur as he pulled back the duvet and sat down on the edge of the bed. Arthur stepped into the loo and filled a glass with water to place on the bedside table.

“I know you’re not a child. Now take off your shoes.”

This time, Merlin rolled his eyes, but he complied and pulled his legs up under the covers. He lay down, letting out an involuntary sigh as his head touched the pillow.

“If anything happens… If you find out anything…” Merlin started to sit up, reaching for his mobile as if holding it as he slept would bring news faster.

With a gentle touch, Arthur stilled Merlin’s hand, forcing him to leave his phone on the table. “I promise I’ll call.”

Merlin nodded and lay back down, closing his eyes, finally letting his exhaustion overtake him. Arthur stood over him, watching his face as it relaxed. He was fully aware this was not normal behaviour for a detective, to stare at one’s partner as he slept. But seeing the way this case was affecting Merlin and witnessing how much Merlin cared for the families he served and how far he would go to help them was only making Arthur’s feelings for his partner grow. What had started as a physical attraction had grown to respect for his intelligence and devotion. But now, as Arthur gazed openly at Merlin’s beautiful face and watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, he realized Merlin was quickly becoming more and more important to him. He cared about his well-being and didn’t want to see him hurt.

Resisting the strong urge to reach out and brush Merlin’s hair off his forehead, Arthur turned away, resolving to do everything he could to find this boy, both for the sake of the child and his mother and for his partner’s sake. Because Arthur felt certain if this case ended badly, Merlin might not recover.

As he left Merlin’s bedroom, he heard the front door knob jiggle as if a key was turning it, and the door swung open. A woman with long, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck stepped into the flat. She let out a squeak of surprise when she saw Arthur and dropped the bag she was carrying.

“Oh! Sorry. You surprised me.” The woman took a step toward him, extending her hand. “You must be Arthur. I’m Hunith Emrys. Merlin’s mother.”

“Merlin’s mother?” Arthur stepped forward and shook her hand. “He didn’t mention you were coming today.”

“I wasn’t, but I saw that poor mother making her plea on the news, and I saw Merlin and you in the background, so I had to come.” She looked around the living room and toward the kitchen. “Where is Merlin?”

“He’s sleeping.” Arthur felt a blush rise on his cheeks as he gestured back toward the bedroom Hunith had seen him coming out of. “I was just making sure he was actually going to rest. He hasn’t slept for several days. I thought he might try to keep working.”

Thankfully, Hunith smiled and put up her hand to stop Arthur’s nervous rambling. “Thank you for looking out for him. I know this case must be hitting him particularly hard.”

“It is.” Arthur moved to sit on Merlin’s couch and gestured for Hunith to join him. “But I don’t know why. I mean, he’s always very dedicated and seems to empathise greatly with victims, but this one is really getting to him. Why this case in particular?”

Hunith looked stricken. “He didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Arthur wondered whether she was talking about the disappearance of her husband or if something else in Merlin’s life was causing his extreme reaction to this case.

“His very first case after he made detective...” Hunith glanced away as she spoke. “Was a missing child.”

Arthur’s heart plummeted, because he already knew what Merlin’s mother was going to say.

“They searched for days, and they couldn’t find him. None of their leads panned out. They had almost no evidence to go on.” Placing her hand over her heart, Hunith’s voice broke as she continued. “Merlin was the one who found him. Almost two weeks after he’d gone missing. Autopsy showed that he’d been dead for more than a week.”

Hunith dabbed tears from her cheeks, and Arthur found himself welling up, too. No wonder Merlin was so desperate to find Mordred. Arthur wondered why he hadn’t seen that case when he had read Merlin’s previous files. And why Merlin hadn’t confided in him about why this case was affecting him so strongly?

“I didn’t know.” He whispered frankly to Merlin’s mother.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “He does trust you, Arthur. I can tell from the way he talks about you. But that case nearly broke him. I think he’d rather pretend it never happened.”

Arthur supposed he could understand. Simply not talking about a traumatic event, rather than bringing up all those feelings and all that pain again. Still it hurt that Merlin had kept this from him over the last few days when Arthur had been so worried about him.

“You’re good for him, you know.” Hunith still had her hand on Arthur’s arm, and now she was smiling fondly at him. His heart clenched at this small maternal gesture. “Merlin has a tendency to follow flights of fancy, and he can sometimes get lost in the cases he investigates.”

“He does seem to throw his whole heart and soul into his work. And talk about head in the clouds!” Arthur chuckled and then had to admit, “He’s good, though. Best detective I’ve ever seen.”

Hunith squeezed his hand and nodded. “But he still needs someone to help him keep at least one toe on the ground. You can do that, Arthur. Help him not to lose who he is. You just hold onto him and be his voice of reason.”

Nodding vigorously, Arthur agreed. “I can do that.”

“I know you can.” Hunith gave his hand another squeeze before she pulled away, still smiling. “And maybe he can help you a little, too. If you let a little magic in, you might find soaring amongst the clouds can actually be quite exhilarating.”

Hunith turned away, but Arthur thought he caught her winking as she turned. He felt himself blushing again, so he stood and smoothed his trousers, clearing his throat. “I, uh… I need to get back to the hospital to check on our suspect. When Merlin wakes, have him call me, if you don’t mind. I’ll let him know if he needs to come in.”

With a chuckle, Hunith stood as well and started toward the door to let Arthur out. “If you think I’m capable of stopping my son from jumping right back into the investigation, you greatly overestimate my powers of persuasion.”

She held her hand out, but when Arthur reached to shake it, she simply clasped his hand in both of hers. “Thank you again for taking care of Merlin. And for being exactly the kind of partner and friend he needs. I’m glad I got to meet you today, Arthur. It was good talking with you.”

Arthur savoured the warmth of her hands for a moment, wondering briefly whether all mothers are so affectionate with their sons’ work associates but knowing the answer already. He almost felt jealous of Merlin growing up with such a clear example of unconditional love.

“I’m glad I got to meet you, as well.” Arthur returned her warm smile. “And you don’t have to thank me. Merlin’s easy to care for.”

His heart leapt, and he felt his eyes widen in shock at hearing those words come out his mouth, but Hunith simply nodded in agreement. “That he is.”

All the way back to the office, though, Arthur pondered what might have possessed him to say what he did. Obviously he did care for Merlin. He was his partner and his friend. And, Arthur also knew he felt attracted to Merlin and was definitely developing feelings for him beyond a professional or even friendly relationship. But to admit as much to the man’s mother? What had Arthur been thinking?

*****

After a quick stop at the hospital where the doctor told him Cerdan Rowe was unlikely to be able to speak for at least another day, Arthur returned to the station. He decided once again to attempt to find Mordred’s father. The fact that a teacher overheard Mordred say he wanted to meet his father paired with the fact that Mordred was clearly interested in his father’s beliefs about magic led Arthur to believe the boy might have made contact with his father, and his father might be involved in his disappearance.

On a hunch, Arthur decided to research Cerdan Rowe’s family background. He soon discovered Cerdan Rowe had joined a druidic cult a few years ago that required its followers to take a new name. A little more digging and Arthur found Cerdan’s former surname matched the surname of Mordred’s father. And sure enough, Cerdan had joined the cult with his brother who had also changed his name. His brother was now deceased, but the name confirmed he was Mordred’s father. Therefore, Cerdan Rowe was Mordred’s uncle. Perhaps Merlin was right, and Mordred had gone with Cerdan willingly.

Arthur debated calling Merlin to tell him about this new revelation, but he decided it could wait. Merlin had only been asleep for about three hours, and after two whole days without sleep, he clearly needed the rest. Two more hours, Arthur decided, would be about as long as he could push it before calling to wake Merlin.

Low on sleep himself, Arthur decided to head up to the break room for some coffee, but he was only halfway up the stairs when his mobile rang. Merlin. Arthur rolled his eyes. He should have known.

“Three hours is not enough to de-zombify you, Merlin.” Arthur teased when he answered the phone.

“What are on about?” Merlin’s voice had an edge of panic that made Arthur stop short mid-step. “Arthur! It’s not a building! It’s a crystal!”

Arthur shook his head in confusion. “What?”

“The drawing in Mordred’s rucksack. We thought it was a skyscraper he designed for a video game, but it’s not. It’s a drawing of a crystal.”

Still confused, Arthur continued slowly up the stairs. “Okay. So what does that tell us?”

“Remember how Jody Beecham was obsessed with some crystal Vivian Norris stole from her at school?”

Arthur felt like he had been hit in the stomach as he remembered his first case with Merlin. “Right! She wanted the crystal back, but Vivian had thrown it away. But you can’t think Mordred drew a picture of that same crystal.”

“Not the same one, but a similar one. One that is also a conduit for magic.”

Arthur started to protest this absurd statement, but then he remembered what Hunith had told him earlier about letting a little magic in, so he decided to let his partner’s imagination fly and to follow wherever Merlin’s crazy theories took him.

“Do you remember when Jody went to Charlotte’s house? She had a man with her she claimed was her husband, but then none of the women ever saw him again? And we tried to track him down because he was an accomplice to the kidnapping, but Jody wouldn’t say anything about him, and we never found him?”

Of course Arthur remembered. The case wasn’t fully closed because they hadn’t found this man.

Merlin continued without waiting for Arthur to answer. “Well, I went to the prison this morning and talked to Jody.”

“You went to the prison? You were supposed to be sleeping!”

“Focus, Arthur!” Merlin’s chastisement might have irked Arthur if he weren’t so distracted by all this new information. “I told her about this case and that a child might be in danger, and I guess that got to her, because she finally gave him up!”

“And?” Arthur had given up on getting a coffee and was nearly jogging out to the car park, hoping Merlin had an address for this man.

“His name is Alvarr, and she said she met him online, and when she mentioned the crystal she used to have, he convinced her to do whatever it took to get it back. She said he wanted the crystal for something, but he wouldn’t tell her what.” Merlin’s voice trembled with excitement. “Don’t you see, Arthur? Mordred must have had one of those crystals and somehow Alvarr found out. So Mordred was with Cerdan to learn about magic, but then Alvarr came and took him, so he could get the crystal!”

Arthur’s head was spinning. He wasn’t used to flying quite so high in the clouds of crazy imaginative theories. But if, by some miracle, Merlin was right, this might be the lead they needed to find Mordred.

“Do you know where Alvarr is?” Arthur had reached his car and put the key in the ignition.

“I’m on my way there now.”

Merlin gave Arthur the address and told him to meet him there as soon as he could. The excitement in Merlin’s voice filled Arthur with hope. Could Merlin be right? Would they find their missing child at Alvarr’s house? As he drove, Arthur found he had to concentrate quite hard not to speed through every red light.

When Arthur arrived at Alvarr’s house, Merlin was already inside. Alvarr was face down on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, and Merlin was untying Mordred who was bound to a chair facing a large crystal standing upright on the kitchen table. As Arthur burst into the room, Merlin looked up at him and smiled brightly, eyes shining with tears of relief. It was all Arthur could do not to pull Merlin into his arms and hold him tight.

Back at the station, Merlin and a child psychologist who often worked with the police took a statement from Mordred, while Arthur questioned Alvarr. He would have liked to have Merlin with him because he was the one who connected the man who assisted Jody Beecham with this case, but Arthur also wanted to speak with Alvarr immediately while he might be too flustered from his arrest to create fabrications.

Arthur needn’t have been concerned, however. Alvarr seemed completely forthright and unrepentant about kidnapping both a young mother and a ten-year-old child.

“I took them because I needed the crystals. Those women stole a crystal years ago, and we needed to find it. They had no idea what they had taken or the power it contained.” Alvarr looked directly at Arthur as he spoke, eyes defiant, daring Arthur to challenge him. “The boy knew, though. I’ve been looking for the Crystal of Neahtid for years. Cerdan told me his brother had it, but after he died, we couldn’t find it. We didn’t know he had a girlfriend he got pregnant. Otherwise, we’d have gone to her house looking for the crystal sooner.”

“How did you find out that Mordred Lewis had the crystal?” Arthur asked.

Alvarr leaned back in his chair, a malicious grin spreading on his bearded face. “Kid bragged about it on a video game server! We didn’t know how he got it or where he lived, so I used a fake ID to lead him to Cerdan’s blog. The kid had all sorts of questions about magic, and Cerdan answered them, hoping he could get the kid to tell him where he was keeping the crystal.”

Hearing Alvarr almost brag about deceiving a child and plotting to steal a precious heirloom from him made Arthur sick to his stomach, but he didn’t let his distaste show on his face.

“Tell me what happened two days ago. The morning Mordred Lewis disappeared.”

Again, Alvarr smiled, and Arthur wanted to vomit. Or punch him right in his smug face.

“I had been tracking the child’s movements for a week, so I met him as he walked home from school one day to give him a phone so Cerdan could contact him and arrange a time to meet. He told the kid he was going to teach him magic. And, of course, the little brat bought it. I cast an enchantment on him that morning so he would know where to meet us out of sight of his nosy neighbours.” Alvarr’s face suddenly darkened. “But as soon as Cerdan saw the kid in person, he figured out he was his nephew. Said he was the spitting image of his brother. So that’s how the kid got the crystal — apparently Cerdan’s brother sent it to him before he died.

“So then Cerdan got ideas of keeping the crystal in the family. He got attached to the kid and tried to cut me out. So I had to get in there and take what was rightfully mine. I’m the one who has been searching for the crystal for eight years. I couldn’t let Cerdan have it just because he got all sentimental over being an uncle.”

Arthur watched quietly as Alvarr moved rapidly from calm self-satisfaction to red-faced, table-pounding anger. For some reason, Arthur found the anger easier to deal with.

“So you knocked out your former partner-in-crime and went to steal the crystal.” Arthur leaned forward. “But why take the boy? You had to know kidnapping means a longer prison sentence than burglary.”

Deflated, Alvarr mumbled. “I couldn’t control it. Not without the boy. Takes powerful magic, and I…” He shrugged one shoulder without raising his eyes to meet Arthur’s.

Arthur went over Alvarr’s story with him one more time and got him to sign a confession. Satisfied he had enough evidence to lock up both Alvarr and Cerdan once he was out of hospital, Arthur went looking for Merlin. He arrived outside the conference room where Merlin had been talking to Mordred in time to see Ms. Lewis run in and wrap her son in her arms, tears streaming down her face. Arthur felt a warmth in his chest and tears stinging his own eyes at this reunion. He looked up to see Merlin’s forehead wrinkle as he hastily excused himself and walked out the opposite door.

Instead of entering the conference room to speak to Mordred and his mother, Arthur followed Merlin as he strode down the hall, ducking into the evidence room. The room was dark, but Arthur did not bother looking for the light switch. He drew his now-weeping partner into a tight embrace.

“You did it.” He whispered into Merlin’s hair. “You found him.”

Merlin turned his face to press into the warmth of Arthur’s neck, and Arthur raised a hand to stroke the back of Merlin’s head, carding his fingers through his hair. Just as Arthur was beginning to forget the stress of the last two days and pull his amazing partner tighter against his body, Merlin pulled back.

He swiped the back of his hand across his tear-stained face and flashed a smile so bright it made Arthur’s heart leap into his throat.

“It was all thanks to you.”

Merlin’s smile looked suspiciously mocking all of a sudden, and Arthur’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“Go get some sleep, Merlin.” Merlin spoke in a low voice, poking his lips out into a grumpy pout, imitating Arthur. “Well, it worked!”

“You couldn’t have slept more than an hour!”

Voice smug, Merlin tapped his temple with one finger. “Well, I guess some minds catch up quicker than others.”

Arthur spun Merlin to face the door and shoved him into the hall, keeping his hands on his shoulders as he followed him out. “Shut up, Merlin.” But Arthur was so pleased Mordred was safe and Merlin was happy he let Merlin tease him all the way back to their office.

On Friday evening at the pub, Gwaine was loudly retelling the story of Merlin’s daring rescue of Mordred to anyone who would listen, when Valiant and several of his mates walked over to their table. Arthur clenched his fists at his sides, ready to defend his partner and take out as many of Valiant’s faithful followers as he had to in the process, but Valiant surprised him.

“Hey, Emrys. Nice job on getting that missing kid home safe.” There was not even a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he clapped Merlin on the back and asked, “How’d you figure where he was?”

Arthur relaxed as Merlin recounted for Valiant the details of their investigation. His chest swelled with pride as Valiant and the other detectives who had spent the last several months taunting Merlin at every opportunity expressed awe at Merlin’s insight and abilities. When Merlin got to the part about finding Mordred at Alvarr’s house, Valiant and the others actually cheered. Merlin glanced toward Arthur, and Arthur decided Merlin’s beaming face was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next week, Arthur spent some time researching the crystals that were taken from both Jody and Mordred. He found references to such crystals in the writings of several Neopagan religious groups, like the Druids. Those who followed such naturalistic religions believed, as Alvarr did, the crystals were a conduit for magic.

Arthur drove to the police station earlier than usual on Monday morning because he was anxious to talk to Merlin, and he hoped his partner, who seemed to spend almost every waking hour at the office, would already be there. Arthur had visited several shops in London on Saturday that sold materials related to witchcraft and sorcery. He examined their wares and spoke to the employees. In one shop, The Phoenix Nest, Arthur met the owner and spent almost a full hour asking questions and listening as the older gentleman talked about how magic was diminishing, but individuals with a certain propensity could still harness the magic of the earth. Arthur found the people in these shops were more likely to talk openly with him if he hid his scepticism and simply went along with the hocus-pocus nonsense.

Arthur grimaced at books promising “ancient and secret knowledge of magic.” He was convinced the producers and sellers of these books and trinkets were simply taking advantage of people’s desire for mystery and a connection with something larger than themselves. The owner of The Phoenix Nest spouted a great deal of impressive-sounding magical history, and he certainly made it sound appealing to use his wares to connect with the great tradition of the Old Religion. But he also looked at Arthur with a half-raised eyebrow and spoke with a somewhat amused tone, as if he knew there was no way Arthur would believe his stories and they were merely sharing a joke as they roamed the shop discussing aging spells and ways to defeat cursed creatures.

Arthur hoped Merlin would agree with him. While the shops he visited might seem harmless, the actions of Jody, Cerdan and Alvarr proved those taken in by this Old Religion nonsense could be dangerous. As Arthur walked briskly into the station entrance, his phone buzzed with a text. It was from his boss, DCS Bayard.

_I need to see you in my office as soon as you arrive._

Arthur slowed his pace and furrowed his brow. What did Bayard want? Was he still upset about Merlin scaring a few of the Lewis’s neighbours as he investigated Mordred’s disappearance?

As requested when he accepted this new partnership, Arthur sent weekly reports to DCS Bayard noting his and Merlin’s progress on various cases. They had a good success rate of solving cases, and, because Arthur usually did most of the paperwork, the case notes stuck solely to verifiable fact. However, if Bayard had discovered Merlin believed actual magic was involved in these cases, Arthur wasn’t certain their successful arrests would be enough to keep Merlin on the force.

Climbing the stairs to the superintendent’s office, Arthur decided he would cover for Merlin as best he could. It’s not like he was dangerous or wasting the department’s money. He solved cases and helped people, even if his methods were at times mysterious, and his ideas were a bit out there.

As soon as Arthur reached the top of the stairs and turned toward Bayard’s office, he froze. His father was standing in the doorway of the office talking to DCS Bayard. Arthur couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could not imagine what would bring his father, a prominent local businessman, to the office of the Detective Chief Superintendent of the Camelot CID.

Uther shook Bayard’s hand and then turned to leave. As soon as he spotted Arthur, standing frozen at the end of the hall, his face shifted into the expression Arthur recognized as his mask of reluctant civility. He gave a curt nod.

“Son.”

“Father? What are you doing here?” Arthur tried to remember the last time he had spoken with his father. It had been at least two weeks.

Uther paused for a moment before answering. “Problem at one of our warehouses. Some missing inventory.”

Pendragon Enterprises was such a vast corporation Arthur didn’t think his father, the CEO, kept up with details as trivial as a few items missing from a warehouse, and he certainly wouldn’t be the one reporting such a thing to the police.

“Okay,” Arthur said, hesitantly, “But why would you come to the DCS? Robberies are usually handled downstairs.”

Now Uther looked at his watch, clearly annoyed at having to explain himself to his son. “I suspect this is more than your garden variety robbery. The warehouse foreman recently purchased a brand new car and has inexplicably asked for time off. Also, if you recall, I have known Martin Bayard for many years. I wanted to ensure this matter was handled quickly.”

Arthur nodded vaguely as his father continued down the hall toward the stairs without as much as a goodbye to his son. He did not recall his father knowing his boss, although, when he was young, so many people passed through their house for dinner parties and meetings in his father’s private study, Arthur did not even pay attention to them, much less remember names and faces. He did think it odd Bayard hadn’t mentioned his connection with Uther Pendragon to Arthur.

DCS Bayard had returned to his inner office, so he probably hadn’t noticed Arthur approaching and didn’t know he had run into his father. Bayard’s assistant was not yet at his desk, so Arthur knocked on the door jamb.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“DI Pendragon! I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, looking toward the hallway, probably wondering whether Arthur had seen his father exiting this office. “You’re in early.”

“Yes, I wanted to go over some research with Mer— DI Emrys.” Arthur didn’t necessarily want Bayard to know how close he and Merlin were becoming, so he changed the focus quickly. “I didn’t know you and my father knew one another. I ran into him in the hall just now.”

“Yes, well. There aren’t many in town who haven’t crossed paths at some point with Uther Pendragon, are there?” Bayard shifted some papers on his desk and seemed to be deliberately avoiding meeting Arthur’s eyes. “Have a seat. I wanted to discuss your partner’s breach of protocol on this child kidnapping case.”

Arthur bristled, knowing that from an outside perspective, Merlin’s behaviour on the Mordred Lewis case might seem erratic, but because Arthur now knew about the previous child kidnapping case Merlin had worked and the tragic result of that case, he understood Merlin’s fierce dedication to finding Mordred as quickly as possible.

“Merlin did what needed to be done to find the child. He did not break any laws, and none of his actions will endanger a guilty verdict in court. He followed leads, worked night and day and ultimately brought the child home safely.”

With an all too knowing scowl, Bayard ordered Arthur to turn in a complete report by the end of the day. “And don’t leave out any details in an attempt to protect that partner of yours.”

Still reeling slightly from his encounter with his father, Arthur descended the stairs to his basement office. As expected, Merlin was already there, standing at the work table, sifting through a stack of photographs. Arthur didn’t even get a chance to mention his exploration of the magic shops of London, though, because as soon as Merlin saw him, he started chattering at full speed.

“There you are! The griffin is missing from Town Hall! There’s a blip in the footage from the security camera and nothing from the exterior CCTVs. I borrowed this collection of photos from the Historical Society. It’s been there since 1872, and this morning, it went missing!”

“Whoa… slow down, Merlin.” Arthur set his laptop on Merlin’s desk and shrugged off his jacket. “What’s missing, now?”

“The statue of a griffin that has sat guarding the entrance to the Town Hall for almost 150 years!” Merlin’s eyes shone, a little too excited about an historic statue being stolen from a government building.

“As I recall, that statue was pretty huge.” Arthur moved closer to the work table, so he could look at the photographs Merlin had borrowed. “It must have required special equipment to move it. Are there any doors at Town Hall large enough to drive a truck or a forklift into?”

Arthur was trying to remember the layout of the Town Hall. The city council still met in a chamber along the west side, but the building was primarily rented out for weddings and other functions. The main entrance was accessible only by climbing a set of steps, but perhaps there was a larger service entrance round the back. The photos of the statue showed the bronze griffin perched grandly atop a large, rectangular plinth. The statue itself could probably be removed from the plinth, but it stood nearly two metres tall with wings that would make moving the statue awkward at best.

“May I see the security footage?” Arthur turned to ask Merlin.

“Of course.” Merlin led the way to his computer, where several open windows showed frozen images of footage from security cameras both inside the Town Hall entryway and outside.

As they scanned through the footage from the indoor camera, Arthur noticed the blip Merlin had mentioned. However, according to the timestamp, less than five minutes were missing, starting at 2:38 in the morning. Five minutes certainly didn’t seem like enough time to move a statue so large. The footage from the outdoor camera near the entrance went blank at exactly 2:38.

“Are there any CCTVs we might be able to access that show any of the exits from the building?” Arthur wondered.

“We can ask around at nearby businesses when we get over there.” Merlin snatched up his tablet and his jacket and bounded toward the door. “Let’s go!”

Arthur had to laugh at his partner’s enthusiasm. Merlin’s bouncy excitement today stood in stark contrast to the sober, contemplative detective Arthur had seen during their investigation of the kidnapping. And Arthur found he was altogether too pleased to see Merlin’s smile again, and he couldn’t help hoping to see more of it.

*****

As they walked the few blocks to the Town Hall, Arthur told Merlin about his trip to London that weekend, describing in detail some of the objects he had seen and conversations he had in the shops. Merlin listened carefully, but Arthur noticed his eyes glittering as he nodded along with everything Arthur said.

Finally he had to ask, “What are you smirking about?”

“The older man you talked to about the Old Religion? Was that in The Phoenix Nest?”

“Yes...” Arthur frowned at Merlin, wondering how he knew.

“That was Gaius.” Merlin chuckled inexplicably. “He’s an old family friend.”

Mouth dropping open in confusion, Arthur stared at his partner. “Wait. So you’ve been to that shop before?”

With a raised eyebrow that could almost rival that of his friend Gaius, Merlin explained, “I’ve been to all those shops, Arthur. I actually worked at The Phoenix Nest all through uni.”

“You did not!”

Arthur could not believe what he was hearing. Sure, Merlin believed his father had been abducted by magic, because of something strange he had witnessed as a child, but those shops, with their herbs and crystals and talismans… Surely the incredibly clever detective Arthur had come to respect was not fooled into believing these items held any sort of power at all!

“I did,” Merlin responded in a matter of fact way, and he watched Arthur’s face expectantly as they continued to walk.

“But none of that stuff is real.” Arthur insisted. “You do know that, right?”

For some reason, it bothered Arthur that Merlin might buy into the type of witchcraft pushed by these shops. Surely he could see the shopkeepers were only out to make money, even if that meant taking advantage of people who were searching for meaning in their lives.

“What makes you say it’s not real, Arthur?” Merlin stopped walking, reaching out to stop Arthur as well. “After everything you’ve seen since we started working together, how can you be so completely dismissive?”

Arthur hadn’t meant to hurt his friend, so he opened his mouth to apologize, but Merlin wasn’t finished.

“Look, I know that, as a scientist, you are used to looking for hard and fast proof. A new drug cannot go on the market without multiple trials. A new medical practice cannot be adopted without years of study and testing.” Merlin smiled, reassuringly. “All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind. Don’t dismiss the deeply held beliefs of others simply because you haven’t seen evidence to verify those beliefs.”

With an infuriatingly knowing smile, Merlin turned away and continued walking toward Town Hall, but Arthur stood still for another few seconds. Could he have an open mind about witchcraft and sorcery? Could he ever believe people existed who could perform spells that defied everything he knew about science and the way the world worked? If anyone else asked him, he would deny it outright. But there was something about Merlin’s open, raw faith in magic that made him want to try.

He jogged a few steps to catch up with Merlin and bumped into him with his shoulder. He gave his partner a smile and a sharp nod, as a way of acknowledging that he had heard Merlin’s words and would take them to heart. They were starting up the steps leading to the entrance to Town Hall when Merlin’s mobile rang.

“This is Emrys.” Merlin held up a finger, asking Arthur to wait a moment. “What!? Where?”

Merlin’s tone was so alarmed that Arthur couldn’t help raising his eyebrows in question, but Merlin was listening too intently to respond.

“What did he actually see?” Merlin asked and was quiet for a few moments, listening to the response. “Okay. Text me the address. We’ll be right… What? All right, fine. We’re at Town Hall. Just pick us up here.”

As soon as Merlin hung up, Arthur jumped all over him. “What was that all about? We were going to investigate the missing statue.”

“We may not need to. That was Gwaine. They got a call from a local farmer who witnessed two men he didn’t recognize unloading a large item covered with a cloth and hiding it in his neighbour’s barn.”

“Why would he call the police about that?”

Merlin raised his eyebrows with a grin. “Because twenty minutes later, his own barn was completely demolished.”

“Okay.” Arthur didn’t understand why Merlin was so excited about this. “But how is that our concern?”

Now Merlin leaned forward, lowering his voice dramatically. “Because as the strangers were wheeling the object toward the barn, the cloth slipped, and the farmer saw bronze wings.”

“The statue!” Now Arthur understood why Gwaine had phoned Merlin, but he still didn’t know why his partner’s eyes were dancing with barely contained glee. “So… the men who stole it saw the farmer notice them, and they destroyed his barn as a warning to keep silent?”

Merlin shook his head, still grinning widely. “The men didn’t destroy the barn.”

“Then who did?” Arthur was getting frustrated.

Merlin leaned all the way in, until his face was mere inches from Arthur’s, and he whispered, “The griffin.”

Arthur pulled back, eyeing his partner with disbelief. Surely Merlin wasn’t suggesting a statue came to life and attacked a barn. But Merlin simply waggled his eyebrows in response.

“They’re here!” he announced as he started bounding down the steps toward two patrol cars pulling up in front of Town Hall.

Merlin climbed into the car Gwaine was driving and shouted to Arthur, “You ride with Lancelot! See you there!”

More frustrated than ever, Arthur reluctantly got into the other car. He would have preferred if he and Merlin could ride together, so Merlin could explain where on earth he got his theory that magic could actually animate a massive bronze statue, and if it was somehow absurdly true, how he planned to stop the thing. But he was stuck with Lancelot who seemed to be even more in the dark than he was. And Merlin was up there in another car, chattering excitedly to Gwaine about this magical statue.

To distract himself from the fact that Gwaine was, at this moment, enjoying all of Merlin’s dazzling smiles, Arthur decided to research griffins on his mobile. The griffin was a mythological creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. Griffons symbolized strength and leadership, which was probably why the statue was selected to stand outside the chambers of Town Hall. Arthur was starting to read about the griffin’s portrayal in literature when Lancelot cleared his throat.

“So it seems like things are working out with you and Merlin.” He smiled. “I mean, you seem to enjoy the work, and the two of you work well together.”

Arthur switched off his mobile and turned slightly in his seat toward Lancelot. “Yeah, I guess we do. And it is interesting work, even if some of the cases seem a bit off the wall.”

“Like this one?” Lancelot laughed, and Arthur joined him.

“Yeah, I’d say this one qualifies.”

Lancelot looked over at Arthur, narrowing his eyes. “Does he actually believe a statue magically came to life and is running wild across the farmland?”

Hearing it out loud, it sounded completely ludicrous. Nevertheless, Arthur still felt he owed it to his partner to keep an open mind. So he nodded his affirmation.

“And he’s not high?”

Arthur laughed out loud. “No, mate. He’s just a bit … different.”

Lancelot raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything else. Perhaps he suspected Arthur was developing feelings for his partner. Arthur had noticed in the past that Lancelot seemed to be surprisingly perceptive about that sort of thing. After all, he had known Arthur was going to break up with Gwen before Arthur had mentioned it to anyone.

Arthur had time to read a bit more about the legends involving griffins, but as they neared the farmhouse, Lancelot spoke up.

“Arthur, look.”

When he looked up, he saw an old stone wall beside the road with large sections of the stones knocked down and scattered around. Beyond the wall, a house stood with a gaping hole in one side. The walls and part of the roof were demolished, as if the house had been hit with a wrecking ball. Lancelot slowed the car down, and they could see a barn beyond the house whose door had been ripped from its hinges. Farther down the road, they noticed a stretch of trees with all the upper branches snapped and dangling loose.

Exchanging a look of horror, Lancelot and Arthur followed the trail of destruction to another farmhouse where Gwaine was pulling into the drive. As they got out of their vehicles, Arthur looked past the house to the barn, half of which had been demolished. Broken chunks of wood were strewn about the farm.

Gwaine, Lancelot and Arthur were standing in shock, looking around at all the devastation, but Merlin sprang into action. He pointed toward the barn and shouted, “Gwaine and Lancelot, take a look around and see if you can find any clues as to whether this was deliberate.

“Arthur, talk with the farmer and get all the details on what he saw. The destruction started back there.” He pointed toward the first house they had seen as they drove up. “It looks like the griffin is headed this direction, so I’m going to continue and see if I can find it.”

He immediately started jogging down the road, clearly trying to face whatever this was by himself, but Arthur would not allow that.

“Not alone, you won’t.” He shouted after his partner, annoyance clear in his voice. He turned back to Gwaine and Lancelot. “One of you talk to the farmer. I’m going with Merlin!”

He tore down the road, trying to catch Merlin before he got too far, and as soon as he caught up, he grabbed Merlin’s arm, whipping him around.

“Merlin, stop. Whatever this is, if it’s the griffin statue come to life, or if it’s some other type of animal that’s gotten loose, or even if it’s some crazy person with… I don’t know… A bulldozer or an excavator. How exactly do you plan to stop it? Whatever has caused all this…” He waved his arm back toward the destruction. “It’s huge. And it’s out of control.”

“Exactly!” Merlin shouted back, wrenching his arm from Arthur’s grip. “That’s why we have to stop it before it hurts someone!”

He started running again, and all Arthur could do was run with him. They passed more branches that had been torn from trees. Then they came to a field of wheat with a large swath of stalks trampled, looking for all the world as if a large animal had run through it. Arthur was genuinely frightened, but he followed his partner through the field, heart pounding.

And then suddenly, they burst out of the wheat field into a small clearing, and the griffin stood before them, neck bent as it used its powerful hooked beak to tear into the flesh of a fox it had captured. Arthur stopped dead and stared, hardly able to process what his eyes were seeing. Merlin was right. The statue he had seen so many times guarding the entrance of Town Hall was now a living, breathing creature.

“Arthur, look.” Merlin spoke in a hushed voice as he reached back and grabbed Arthur’s wrist. “Oh… he’s beautiful.”

Beautiful wasn’t quite the word Arthur would have used. Massive, as it was several metres from beak to tail, had an even wider wingspan, and the muscles in its hindquarters were rippling as it stepped around to get a better angle for ripping the flesh from the bones of its prey. Terrifying was another word he would use, as he gaped at both its claws and talons. Impossible, certainly. They were standing in the middle of English farmland looking at a creature that was half lion, half eagle. It looked like it had stepped right out of the pages of a storybook.

But then Merlin turned and smiled at him with tears streaming down his face, his eyes wide with awe and wonder, and Arthur looked again at the griffin, this time seeing it through the eyes of his friend. His friend who believed magic filled the earth and impossible events happened every day. And suddenly, the griffin _was_ beautiful.

He stepped closer to Merlin and slid his hand into his, linking their fingers. He whispered to his friend, “He’s amazing.”

They stood in silence and watched the creature pick the fox’s bones dry. Unfortunately, as soon as it lost the distraction of its meal, the griffin turned toward them and, surprised by their presence, reared back in fright, clawing at the air and letting out a screech that sent a chill down Arthur’s spine.

Before Arthur had time to consider a course of action, the creature bent its head and started to charge right toward them. Arthur shoved Merlin out of the way just in time, but the griffin’s head ran right into his chest, and he was knocked to the ground. He spluttered to catch his breath and tried to bring his knees up to protect himself, but the creature was too fast. One sharp talon ripped across his belly, tearing into his flesh. He wasn’t sure if the screaming he heard was himself, the griffin or Merlin. All he could see was white as the pain seared through him. And then he blacked out.

*****

When he woke up, he was lying flat on his back in a bright room. He tried to move, and an involuntary groan escaped because he felt a sharp pain across his stomach.

“Arthur?”

That was Merlin’s voice. Arthur blinked and tried to lift his head but found even that hurt his throbbing stomach muscles. But then Merlin’s face appeared above him, and he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

“Don’t try to move, Arthur. You’re in hospital. You’ve had stitches all the way across your belly.” Arthur felt the hand on his arm moving in tender strokes.

“What happened?” Arthur tried to ask, but his voice sounded more like a croak.

Merlin turned away for a moment, and Arthur immediately felt the loss of his warm touch. He returned holding a plastic cup with a straw bent over the rim and held it close to Arthur’s mouth for him to take a sip. The cool water felt glorious sliding down his parched throat. After he had enough, he nodded slightly, and Merlin placed the cup on the bedside table and then, thankfully, returned his hand to Arthur’s arm.

“What do you remember?” Merlin asked. His voice was carefully casual, but his eyes gave away his desperation. They begged Arthur to remember something important that must have happened.

So Arthur strained to remember. “I went to London to some shops… When was that?”

“That was over the weekend, Arthur. Do you remember coming to work yesterday morning?”

Work. Arthur tried to picture going into the police station, and then he remembered something. “Yes! My father was there.”

Merlin’s forehead creased and his lips turned down. “Umm… I’m not sure about that.”

“He was. He was talking to Bayard.” Arthur remembered feeling unsettled by his father talking to his boss. “But I guess I came down to the office?”

Merlin chuckled. “Are you asking, or do you remember?”

Arthur focused again, not liking this fuzzy-headed feeling. “No, I remember now. The statue was missing from Town Hall. We went down there, but then Gwaine…”

He felt his eyes go wide as he remembered driving out to the farm and running after Merlin. “We were in a field, and we saw…”

In his mind, he had an image of a live griffin eating a fox, but his aching head felt so befuddled, he wasn’t certain whether it was real. But then Merlin leaned in, smiling. And Arthur saw his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, and then Arthur remembered Merlin crying with delight at the sight of the magical creature, and his heart seemed to swell within his chest.

“The griffin.” He laughed, which caused a sharp pain in his stomach, but he didn’t even care, because Merlin was laughing as well, tears spilling out and landing warm on Arthur’s neck.

“You do remember,” Merlin choked out, and his smile was so wide and so bright Arthur thought it might actually leap off his face and dance around.

“I can hardly believe it.” If Arthur hadn’t seen the griffin with his own eyes, he would never have believed it was real. All these months, Merlin had been nudging him toward the truth, and he had resisted, stubbornly insisting science held an explanation for everything. But now, he had seen proof; magic did exist in this world.

“You were right, Merlin. Magic is real.”

Merlin was still smiling, but now his tears were spilling freely, and his lower lip was trembling. Arthur realized how much it must mean to him to have Arthur finally believe, and he wished he could reach up and brush the tears from Merlin’s cheeks and press his thumb into that trembling lip. But the pain in his stomach wouldn’t let him raise his arm. Although that pain reminded him…

“It attacked me, didn’t it?” Arthur remembered being knocked down and feeling the griffin’s talon tearing into his stomach, but he didn’t remember anything after that. “What happened? How did you stop it?”

Merlin’s smile disappeared, and his face shuttered as he stood up straight, pulling away from Arthur.

“I… threw some wheat stalks at it to distract it, and then I ran, so it would follow me and leave you alone. I guess the magic that brought it to life was wearing off, because before long, it turned back into a statue.”

Arthur frowned. The griffin had powerful hindquarters and a long stride, not to mention wings. How could Merlin outrun the thing, even for a short distance? And then before it could attack again, the creature conveniently transformed? He narrowed his eyes at his friend, who was now picking carefully at a rough spot on the bed railing. Merlin was hiding something. Arthur was certain.

“I, uh… I used my shirt to help slow the bleeding while I rang for an ambulance.” Merlin chewed on his bottom lip. “There was so much blood, Arthur. I was afraid...”

Merlin swallowed hard and didn’t continue, although another tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. Arthur decided he would confront his friend another time for the truth about what happened in that field. For now, he tried his best to lift his hand to reach out. Fortunately, Merlin noticed his effort and slipped his own hand around Arthur’s, squeezing gently.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Merlin reached with his other hand toward Arthur’s face but seemed to rethink this move and paused, hand hovering somewhere above Arthur’s chest briefly before retracting. More than anything at this moment, Arthur craved Merlin’s touch. The pain in his stomach and whatever drugs he had probably been given were making him groggy again. So all he could do was smile encouragement at Merlin, and he was certain his sleepiness and his growing feelings for this man were combining to make his face disgustingly maudlin, but he didn’t care. And then Merlin reached out again and touched his forehead, smoothing his hair back. And he let his hand trail down Arthur’s cheek, resting along his jaw. Arthur turned into his touch and let his eyes fall closed. As much as he wanted to savour this moment, he allowed the comfort of Merlin’s warm hands to lull him to sleep.

*****

After two days in hospital, Arthur was going stir-crazy. Fortunately, he was released to go home, but he still wasn’t cleared to return to work. He supposed there were people who enjoyed having a few days off work to lie around their flat, watching telly and relaxing. Arthur Pendragon was not one of those people.

“What are you working on?” Arthur texted his partner by 9:30 the morning after he had returned home. “Send me some paperwork or something. I’m going mad.”

Merlin responded quickly. “You’re volunteering to do paperwork? You must be mad.”

“Shut up and send me something to work on, idiot!”

“Having your guts ripped open makes you cranky. Do your injury report for Bayard. I tried to tell him the truth, but he didn’t believe me. Good luck writing a better explanation!”

Arthur groaned as he read Merlin’s last text. He had completely forgotten he still had to report on his injury. What would he tell Bayard? He didn’t blame his boss for not believing Merlin. If he hadn’t seen the griffin himself, he wouldn’t have believed him either, and Bayard didn’t trust Merlin like Arthur did. But Arthur needed a story that would explain both his injury and all the damage caused by the griffin.

It took a couple of hours, but Arthur finally came up with a report involving a wild boar and a farmer losing control of a tractor. He emailed the report to Bayard, copying Merlin in, so he could redo his own report to match Arthur’s account. After forcing himself to eat some soup, Arthur felt quite fatigued. He had been frustrated the doctor would not let him go to work, but it seemed he did need another day or two of rest. Resigning himself to life as an invalid, he turned on the telly and promptly fell asleep on the couch.

A loud knock on the door caused him to jerk awake. The room was dark, only moonlight gleaming through the windows, so he must have slept for hours. Groggily, he got to his feet and plodded to open the door.

“Oh no! Were you sleeping? I’m so sorry!” Merlin stood outside the door, holding a bag of takeaway. “I just got off work, and you said you were bored, so I thought I’d bring dinner and some files and things for you to help out with. But you need to rest, so I’ll just drop this and go.”

At that moment, to his horror, Arthur let out a huge yawn which made Merlin grimace in apology and reiterate that he would go and let Arthur get back to sleep.

“No, don’t be an idiot, Merlin.” Arthur reached out and grabbed his partner’s arm to pull him into the flat. “I’ve been sleeping all afternoon like I’m eighty years old or something.”

Merlin chuckled at that and closed the door behind him. “I brought pasta. I thought you probably needed something mild after having your insides spilled out onto a wheat field.”

Well, that was a lovely image. Arthur wrinkled his nose at Merlin, who grinned back at him, and Arthur found he didn’t much care what disgusting details Merlin might reveal about his injury if it meant he got to see that adorable smile that crinkled the corners of Merlin’s eyes.

Merlin insisted Arthur should rest in the living room while he dished up dinner for him, which was extremely frustrating, and Arthur was prepared to tell Merlin off for treating him like he was helpless. That is, until Merlin returned from the kitchen with two plates and sat on the couch beside Arthur without even asking.

As they ate, Merlin caught Arthur up on the follow-up work he had done on the missing statue case. The man who owned the farm where the statue was being hidden was a sorcerer, and he was part of an internet community of other sorcerers. He and two of his friends had found a spell for bringing statues to life, so they decided to bring to life a creature that did not actually exist in nature — the griffin.

“They didn’t need special equipment to remove the griffin from the Town Hall, because it walked out on its own,” Merlin explained, eyes sparkling playfully. “Apparently the creature was a bit dazed when they brought it to life the first time, so it was easier to control. They turned it back into a statue to transport it to the farm, but when they reanimated it, they lost control. The poor thing must have been so confused and frightened.”

Arthur had listened carefully as Merlin recounted the story, but hearing Merlin coo over the creature that had attacked him suddenly made him recognize the absurdity of this moment, and he started laughing.

Merlin looked at him, confused. “What’s so funny?”

“Come on, Merlin!” Arthur almost guffawed. “We’re adults. We’re police officers. Detectives, even! And you’re sitting here on my couch talking about sorcerers animating a statue of a creature who, before this, existed only in fiction.”

He threw his arms up in resignation. “And I believe every word! How is this my life?”

And there was that crinkly-eyed smile again. Damn, Arthur loved that smile. He watched Merlin’s eyes for a moment as his laughter faded, and Merlin returned his gaze, his own wide grin slowly shifting into something softer, more tender. Merlin’s glance flitted for a moment to Arthur’s lips, but then he pulled back and cleared his throat.

“You’ll get used to it, I guess.” His voice was low, and he smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

Arthur’s heart was fluttering, and he suddenly didn’t feel like eating anymore. Apparently Merlin felt the same because he leaned forward along with Arthur to set his plate on the coffee table. Merlin picked up the file folder he had brought and turned back toward Arthur.

“So, I’ve been keeping something from you.” His pursed his lips and avoided Arthur’s eyes, clearly thinking his confession would anger his partner.

Instead though, Arthur felt relieved. “I know.”

Merlin’s eyes flew to meet his, and he raised his eyebrows. “You know?”

“Well yeah. You don’t exactly have the best poker face, mate. I can tell you’ve been hiding something.” Arthur shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“So you don’t know what…” Merlin waved a hand vaguely.

Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled. “I knew you were hiding something, not what you were hiding. I can read the emotions on your face, but I can’t read the thoughts in your mind, you Cabbage Head.”

He accentuated his last words with a playful rub of the top of Merlin’s head, causing his dark, curly hair to stand up in a way that made Merlin look like a fluffy puppy. Merlin’s lips curled into a crooked smile as he tried to smooth his hair back down, but he didn’t get all of it. Several tufts were still sticking out, and Arthur’s fingers itched to reach out and tuck them in. Or to reach out and ruffle those curls completely. Or to dig in with both hands and pull Merlin toward him so Arthur could devour those lips.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked quickly at the file on Merlin’s lap. “So, what were you going to tell me?”

Opening the file, Merlin pulled out several photographs. They showed buildings around town with graffiti spray-painted on them, as well as close-ups of the graffiti itself. Each one showed the same symbol, a triple spiral, followed by a number.

“Oh yeah…” Arthur realized he recognized the graffiti. “I’ve seen a few of these recently. I assumed they were the work of taggers. Is that a known gang sign?”

“It’s a triskel, which is an ancient Druidic symbol, although variations of this same symbol appear in the art of many religions and cultures around the world. I checked with Leon, and he didn’t know of any local gangs that use this sign, although he and the Gang Task Force have been keeping track of these tags as they appear. They painted over a couple of them, but the same symbol and number showed up in a new location the next day,” Merlin explained.

“Is there a pattern?” Arthur asked. He didn’t recognize what the numbers might represent. They didn’t look like addresses, as some were whole numbers and others decimals. Some were repeated in different locations, but Arthur saw three distinct numbers.

“No pattern that I’ve found, although…”

Merlin’s voice trailed off, so Arthur looked up at his partner again. Merlin was chewing on his bottom lip, as he tended to do when he wanted to say something but wasn’t certain how well it would be received.

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur tried to coax the information from him.

“I don’t think they’re gang tags. I think they’re clues.” Merlin’s mouth opened and closed, and he swallowed hard. When he spoke again, his voice was small but somehow optimistic. “And I think they have something to do with my father.”

Arthur’s heart sank as he looked at Merlin’s face, so full of hope. He had never known his own mother; she died giving birth to him. And Arthur would give anything to see her even once. So he understood Merlin’s deep desire to find his father, who had been ripped away from him when he was a child. But to believe these tags would lead him to his father? Arthur felt like Merlin was grasping at straws.

“Merlin.” Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s arm. “I’m not sure...”

But Merlin interrupted. “I know how that sounds, but Arthur, I was shown a sort of vision. I saw a man spray painting one of these symbols on a building, and then I saw my father. He was hugging my mum, and they were crying. I think he’s alive. And I think these clues can lead me to him.”

Merlin actually had tears in his eyes as he spoke, and Arthur hated to crush his hopes, but he felt like he had to be a voice of reason.

“Well, it’s understandable you would dream about your father and even for these numbers you’ve been seeing to show up in the dream. But that doesn’t mean…”

“It wasn’t a dream.” Merlin shook his head and then turned on the couch to face Arthur fully, looking into his eyes with a hesitant smile. “I told you I’ve been keeping something from you?”

“Um, yes?” Arthur was confused. He thought Merlin’s secret was that he believed the graffiti around town would lead him to his father.

Merlin took a shaky breath, cupped his hands in front of him and whispered, “Gewyrc an lif.”

He opened his hands, and Arthur gasped as a bright blue butterfly flew out and fluttered between them. Merlin held up one finger, and the butterfly landed on his fingertip, opening and closing its wings as Arthur stared, transfixed. He felt like he could hardly breathe. After a few seconds, he tore his eyes from the creature on Merlin’s fingertip to look at Merlin’s face, and then he stopped breathing altogether. Merlin’s eyes focused on the butterfly and glowed impossibly gold for a moment. Arthur’s heart was pounding, but Merlin gently reached for his hand and placed the butterfly on Arthur’s palm. When he looked down, the insect, which had been flying and moving its wings moments ago was now a mere decoration made of delicate silk, held together with fine wires.

Arthur touched the butterfly carefully, not quite ready to believe what he had seen. He glanced up, and Merlin was watching him expectantly.

“You…” was the only word Arthur could manage.

With a tiny hint of a smile, Merlin nodded. “I’m a sorcerer.”

“A sorc… you… magic…” Arthur was unable to collect his whirling thoughts to form a proper sentence.

At this, Merlin laughed, but his smile quickly faded as he seemed unsure about Arthur’s shocked reaction. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, Arthur. I needed to know that I could trust you. And before the griffin, you didn’t even believe in magic. I didn’t know how you would react. If I tried to tell you, I thought you might think I was crazy. Or you were crazy. Or that I drugged you.”

“Merlin!” Arthur raised his voice slightly to stop Merlin’s nervous rambling.

He looked at his partner, then down at the butterfly in his palm and then back at Merlin’s frightened face. Arthur should feel frightened himself, he supposed. The person sitting before him had admitted to being an actual sorcerer. His eyes had glowed like fire. Arthur had the sudden realization that all the strange incidents from their investigations, which Arthur had attributed to mere coincidence — the power going out at Jody Beecham’s house, the murderous spider man being caught in his own web, the griffin returning to bronze in the middle of an attack — were not coincidence. They were magic. Apparently performed by Merlin.

Merlin remained silent, wringing his hands, chewing his lower lip and watching Arthur’s face, waiting for Arthur to speak again. Arthur stared back at him, his partner, his friend. The man Arthur was, despite his better judgement, completely falling for. A sorcerer.

Arthur should feel frightened. Merlin could probably throw him across the room with a flick of his wrist. He should feel angry. Merlin had lied all this time. He had hidden important evidence. Kept Arthur from the truth. But he had also saved Arthur’s life. And he had allowed Arthur time to gradually change his mind about the existence of magic. And tonight, Arthur thought as he gazed into those vivid blue eyes he loved so much, when Merlin finally trusted him with his secret, he chose to demonstrate his magic not with a grand display of flames or flying objects but by creating a lovely, delicate butterfly.

“Thank you.” Arthur smiled at Merlin. “For trusting me.”

Merlin nearly sobbed in relief, but he returned Arthur’s smile. “So you don’t think I’m a freak?”

Laughing, Arthur held out the butterfly still perched on his palm for emphasis. “You just pulled this out of thin air! Of course I think you’re a freak!”

He carefully set the silk butterfly between his and Merlin’s plates on the coffee table and then took both Merlin’s hands in his.

“You’re going to explain everything to me. You’re going to tell me when you started learning magic and how you learned and what all you can do.”

Merlin opened his mouth as if to begin explaining right away, but Arthur cut him off.

“But not tonight.” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hands reassuringly. “I think I’ve had about all the shock and awe I can take for the moment. Remember that a few days ago, I nearly died, and I kind of have a feeling that you had a lot more to do with my not dying than you let on, so for tonight, let me put aside the revelation that my best friend is an actual, real life Harry Potter.”

Merlin snorted. “Please. Potter’s an amateur.”

And the combination of Merlin’s smirk and his dancing eyes nearly made Arthur lose all semblance of professionalism and jump his partner right then and there, but instead he turned his focus to the photographs they had been examining earlier.

“Let’s just be detectives for now. Maybe compare wand lengths with Dumbledore another time.”

Again, Merlin’s laughter made heat pool in Arthur’s belly, but he ignored it and spread the photos on the couch between them.

“There’s only these three distinct numbers that you’ve found?” Arthur stacked the photos of the same numbers from different locations. “551.44, 8243.6611 and 548.”

“Right. And the one I saw in the vision was 548.” Merlin pointed at one of the photos.

“Okay, how did you see this vision?” Arthur didn’t want to get into a lot of background explanation about Merlin’s magic tonight because his head was still spinning, but to decipher the clues, he did need a bit more information.

Merlin took a deep breath. “I used the Crystal of Neahtid.”

“Mordred’s crystal?”

Merlin nodded. “When we had it in evidence, I felt drawn to it, and the moment I touched it, I saw the visions. In the crystal.”

“Okay.” Arthur could tell he still had much to learn about magic, but for now, he wanted to focus on details he understood. “And you didn’t see anything else? Just the one spray-painted number and your parents hugging?”

When Merlin agreed, Arthur continued, “So if it was a magical vision meant to help you find your father, then who is leaving these clues? Did you recognize the man painting the clue in the vision?”

“No, I didn’t. But I do know my father had magic as well, and, for all I know, he was friends with other sorcerers.” Merlin shrugged. “I mean, he was friends with Gaius.”

Of course. Merlin’s old friend who ran the magic shop in London. Arthur pushed that information aside in the “to be examined later” category and focused again on the numbers in the photos. They weren’t addresses. They didn’t seem to represent money. He shifted the photos, putting them in numeric order. 548, 551.44, 8243.6611. Could the numbers be directing them to another source? Were they volume and issue numbers of a newspaper or magazine? Or… books!

“Oh!” Arthur separated the first two numbers. “These are in the range of the Dewey Decimal system. The five-hundreds are science… five-fifty is chemistry? Or geology?”

Merlin stared at him, mouth open in surprise. “How do you just know that off the top of your head?”

Arthur grimaced, because he knew what Merlin’s reaction would be when he explained. “My father had quite an extensive library in our house, and I spent a lot of time hiding out there when I was growing up.”

He was unsurprised to see Merlin’s mouth gape open even farther. “You grew up in a house with a library so huge it was organized with the Dewey Decimal system?”

When Arthur shrugged, Merlin reached over and swatted his shoulder repeatedly. “You stinking rich, spoiled brat! I had to walk all the way across town to the public library, because half the time, we didn’t even have a car that would run. And the town was so small, the library was pathetic. And you were sitting up there in a giant library, eating your caviar and calling the butler to prop up your feet!”

“What?” Arthur laughed. “It wasn’t like that! Father would have killed me if I brought food into the library. And, besides, George hated me. He wouldn’t even clean my room, much less prop up my feet.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and tossed his head back in mock annoyance at his made-up butler. Merlin scrunched up his face and shoved Arthur hard, so Arthur shoved him back. It was a bit harder than he meant to, though, because Merlin nearly toppled off the couch. Fortunately, Merlin didn’t seem to mind. He cackled with laughter and then launched himself at Arthur, causing him to fall back with Merlin sprawled on top of him. They giggled for a moment, but their punchy mood dissipated quickly as they both became aware of their sudden closeness. Merlin’s chest was pressed against Arthur’s with one of Arthur’s arms trapped between their stomachs and the other wrapped around Merlin’s back, keeping him from rolling to the floor. Arthur felt a slight discomfort from his arm mashing into his stitches, but he was too distracted by Merlin’s warmth against him to care. Merlin held himself up with one elbow against Arthur’s shoulder while the other arm flailed for purchase against the back of the couch.

Arthur looked into Merlin’s eyes, hovering mere inches above his own, and he was certain Merlin could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Merlin stared back for a moment, and then he moved his hand from the couch cushion to trace Arthur’s hairline, his fingertips leaving sparks in their wake along Arthur’s skin. Merlin’s eyes nearly closed as his focus slid down to Arthur’s lips, his eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks. And Merlin started to lean forward a bit, lips parting.

Almost involuntarily, Arthur breathed Merlin’s name, but he immediately regretted it because it seemed to break the moment, and Merlin quickly pushed away, sitting back up.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he hurriedly gathered the photographs they had crushed beneath them. He tossed them onto the coffee table and stood. “I’m sorry.”

“Merlin.” Arthur didn’t know what to say. Clearly Merlin was feeling some of the same emotions he was, and he wanted more than anything to stand up, grab Merlin’s shoulders and kiss him until they were both gasping for breath. But he also knew tonight had been emotional, and he didn’t want Merlin to make a decision in the heat of the moment that he would later regret. And frankly, Arthur wasn’t certain he was thinking all that clearly tonight, either, and while he was fairly sure he could fall completely in love with this man in a permanent sort of way, he also knew Merlin was the best friend he had ever had, and they worked so well together, and Arthur did not want to risk losing either his friend or his partner for a night of passion.

“I’ll leave these here for you. I’ve got more copies.”

Merlin walked quickly to open the door, so Arthur jumped up to stop him before he left. He reached for Merlin’s hand, linking their fingers and squeezing tight, hoping Merlin could tell that he didn’t blame him for getting caught up in the moment and that Arthur had been feeling the same intense connection.

“Thank you for sharing your magic with me. I’m supposed to rest another day, but please come round tomorrow night. I want to hear all about it. Everything.”

Arthur locked eyes with Merlin. He wanted Merlin to know what he was feeling. He wanted to tell him, “You are my friend, and I care about you. You are a brilliant detective, and I admire you. You are stunningly gorgeous, and I want to taste every inch of you. You are tender and caring, and I want to wake up beside you.”

But Arthur could no more say these words out loud than he could create a butterfly from thin air. So, terrified by everything he was feeling, he did his best to pour all his emotions into a single look. Swallowing hard, Merlin gave a jerky nod and looked down, brushing his fingertips across Arthur’s stomach. That slight touch filled Arthur with a warm promise of what might be, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile cross Merlin’s face as he turned to leave.

*****

After the revelations of the evening, Arthur expected a restless night, especially considering he slept most of the day, but he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and he woke the next morning feeling strong and alert. He stayed home as ordered by his doctor, but happily, he felt able to work. He did his own research into the Druids and the groups who might use the triskel symbol.

He discovered the local druidic cults had experienced a surge in membership over the last few months. The increase in activity started around the time the symbols started appearing around town. That had to be significant.

Arthur was making notes of the dates various symbols appeared when his mobile rang. He couldn’t help smiling when he saw Merlin’s name.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Merlin’s tone was oddly upbeat.

“I feel great, actually.” Arthur pressed a hand to his belly. “My skin is almost healed, and I’m not even sore.”

He could hear the sly smile in Merlin’s voice. “Good! Your doctors must have done a great job stitching you up.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “Merlin? You did something, didn’t you?”

“I may have used a small healing spell on you before I left last night.”

Merlin didn’t sound at all repentant, which made Arthur laugh. “Well, why did you bother sending me to hospital at all, then?”

All lightness disappeared from Merlin’s voice when he answered. “My powers are limited, Arthur. I did what I could, but…” He trailed off, clearly hesitant to discuss how severe Arthur’s injuries must have been.

Arthur felt a surge of affection for his friend, but he tried to keep the tone light. “I was kidding, Merlin. Thank you for whatever you did. I may not understand all that hocus pocus,” he chuckled, “but I do appreciate it.”

Merlin cleared his throat, mumbled, “No problem,” and awkwardly changed the subject.

“So, I spoke to my mum this morning, and she mentioned that one of the clues I’ve been tracking showed up in Ealdor, painted on the side of a local monument. And the number on it was different than the others we’ve seen. It’s 51.3.”

Arthur sat up straight and reached for an index card to jot down the number Merlin mentioned. He added the new card to the top of the set he already had lined up on his coffee table, sorted in numerical order.

51.3

548

551.44

8243.6611

Sliding the card with the only whole number to the side, Arthur examined the remaining decimal numbers but still couldn’t find a pattern. He mused aloud to Merlin as he shifted the cards around.

“So I was mostly fishing for answers last night when I mentioned the Dewey Decimal System, but I looked it up, and now I’m wondering if I may have been onto something. The call number 548 is crystallography, and considering you saw that number in an actual crystal, that might mean something. Although it could be a coincidence. Call numbers only go through 999. And 551.44 would be caves, so I don’t know how that would be related.”

Merlin gasped and then nearly shouted, “The Crystal Cave!”

“What?” Arthur had never heard of the Crystal Cave.

“I thought it was a myth. Hang on. I’ve got a book around here somewhere.” Merlin sounded distracted, mumbling under his breath as he searched.

“Here it is. ‘Believed to be the origin of magic itself, the Crystal Cave was considered both sacred and treacherous by those who practiced the Old Religion.’ There’s a few mentions of it in the old texts but not even a hint of a location.” Merlin was mumbling to himself again. “Not like ancient texts could give coordinates, exactly, but it’s not even clear if it was an actual physical cave or…”

Merlin was still babbling about the ancient myths, but his mention of coordinates made Arthur freeze, staring at the index cards before him.

“Coordinates!” This time, Arthur was the one nearly shouting. “That’s the numbers, Merlin! They’re latitude and longitude. 51 North and 3 West—that’s not far from here!”

He tore two of the index cards in half at the decimal point and rearranged them, pairing the first halves together and the second halves together to make 51.8243 and 3.6611.

“Brilliant!” Merlin exclaimed when Arthur explained what he had done. “Look it up! Look it up!”

“I’m way ahead of you.” Arthur was already typing 51.8243° N 3.6611°W into Google.

When the result came up, Arthur’s heart nearly stopped.

“Merlin,” he whispered, “It’s a cave. A cave in Wales.”

“Cave of the Black Spring.” Merlin must have hit Google at the same time. “Arthur, do you think—?”

Arthur shook his head, suddenly feeling sceptical. “I don’t know, Merlin. We could be completely wrong. These clues could be a wild goose chase. They could be a student prank for all we know.”

“But they could be real.” Merlin’s voice trembled. “I have to go to that cave, Arthur. I have to find out.”

Arthur didn’t know what to do. He could tell Merlin was pinning all his hopes of finding out what happened to his father all those years ago on the work of vandals and on a vision that could have been merely a dream. Merlin would be crushed if his visit to the cave provided no answers. But Arthur also knew Merlin would not be satisfied until he at least tried.

“I’m going with you, Merlin,” Arthur insisted. “I don’t think Bayard would approve a trip to Wales on work time, but tomorrow is Saturday, and with the little trick you pulled last night, I should be well enough to travel.”

“But…”

Arthur could hear the impatience in Merlin’s voice. “Please, Merlin. Wait until tomorrow, and let me go with you. I’d like to be a part of this. Plus, an extra set of eyes and ears can only help.”

Merlin sighed. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Arthur could almost feel Merlin’s disappointment radiating through the phone, and he wished they were in the same room, so he could wrap his arms around Merlin to comfort him. Suddenly, the next morning seemed unbearably far away. “So, um, do you want to come round again tonight?” His heart fluttered in his throat. “I can cook something, and you can tell me more about your magic. Also, we could make plans for tomorrow.” He added the last bit so he wouldn’t sound so desperate.

Merlin didn’t speak for a moment, and then he sighed again. “I’ve a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so I’ll be at the office quite late. I’ll probably just skip dinner. Um, I should go, but I’ll text you later about tomorrow.”

Staring blankly at his phone after he hung up, Arthur couldn’t help feeling stung by Merlin’s rejection. He knew Merlin cared for him, and last night, their attraction had certainly seemed mutual, but now Merlin was definitely avoiding him. Possibly, Merlin preferred to keep their relationship professional, and if that were the case, Arthur would simply have to get over his desire for a closer connection with his partner.

But it was also possible Merlin was simply scared of taking the next step. And Arthur could understand that as well. Going from friends to more was definitely scary. The risk of losing the friendship was an ever-present concern. But Arthur smiled to himself as he thought about shared meals in front of the telly, long walks with tangled fingers and deep conversations, and wet kisses that led to hastily ripped off clothes. He was beginning to feel a relationship with Merlin would be worth the risk.

*****

On the drive to the cave the next morning, Merlin seemed anxious. He wasn’t particularly talkative, and when Arthur tried to ask him questions about his magic, he gave vague answers, seemingly trying to use the fewest words possible. Arthur was reminded of their first case when he had felt frustrated because Merlin refused to converse with him properly.

This time, however, he attributed Merlin’s uncooperative attitude to his apprehension about possibly finding out what happened to his father. Arthur stopped asking questions, allowing Merlin to deal with his nerves in his own way, and as he pulled the car into the lay-by near the cave entrance, Merlin turned to smile at Arthur with a grateful nod.

The cave was an extensive maze of tunnels and chambers, but Merlin and Arthur followed the directions Merlin had found on a caving website to the Crystal Pool Chamber, which seemed the most promising place to start their search for the elusive Crystal Cave of myth. As they climbed into the chamber, Arthur turned around so his head torch would shed light along each of the walls. A pool of water whose surface was completely still covered part of the floor of the chamber, and along the opposite wall, curtains of stalactites hung from the high, vaulted ceiling, some draping down to meet columns of stalagmites rising from the pool.

“Wow.” Arthur’s voice echoed through the chamber, so he lowered it to a whisper. “This is beautiful.”

He shone his head torch toward Merlin who had taken a few steps into the chamber and was standing at the edge of the crystal pool. Without turning to face Arthur, Merlin spoke in a hushed voice. “There’s something here. Arthur, I can feel it.”

He reached one hand back, stretching his fingers toward Arthur, so Arthur stepped forward and took his hand. Merlin pulled him close with a wistful smile. Arthur returned his smile and then looked around the chamber, noting a low tunnel to the left and a dark passage near the top of the right wall. When he looked back, Merlin’s eyes were closed. Arthur took the opportunity to stare at his profile. The contrasts of light and shadow falling across the sharp planes of Merlin’s face emphasised his pensive mood. Arthur’s eyes traced Merlin’s jawline, darkened by several days’ worth of scruff and lit on the curve of his lips, parted slightly as Merlin concentrated.

“Do you feel that?” Merlin’s eyes were still closed, but he lifted his chin toward the left side of the opposite wall.

Arthur shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean, Merlin.”

“It’s like … it’s pulling me.” He raised the hand Arthur wasn’t holding to touch his chest. “Here.” He slowly drew his hand outward and then pointed it toward a spot low on the wall of the cavern.

He suddenly opened his eyes and turned to face Arthur. “I think whatever is on the other side of that wall wants me to find it.”

For once, Arthur did not even question Merlin. He didn’t understand the magic involved, but if Merlin felt something calling to him through solid rock, then they should investigate. They were detectives, after all.

“It looks like that tunnel might take us in that direction. Maybe it opens to another chamber.” Arthur leaned down, trying to shine his head torch into the opening of the tunnel. “It’s rather narrow. We’ll have to crawl single file.”

But Merlin pulled Arthur up, eyes twinkling as he shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

He released Arthur’s hand, stepped forward and raised his right hand. He murmured a few words Arthur did not understand, and a portion of the rock crumbled to dust, leaving an opening on the opposite wall of the Crystal Pool Chamber that was large enough for them to walk through.

“Well.” Arthur was impressed. “That certainly is handy.”

Merlin flashed a smile in his direction before motioning with his head for Arthur to follow him toward the doorway he had created with a wave of his hand. Their head torches shone into pitch darkness, and Arthur reached for Merlin’s arm to remind him to go slowly in case the footing wasn’t safe in the newly exposed chamber. But the moment Merlin stepped through the opening, the entire chamber lit up. Hundreds of luminous crystals filled the cavern with an eerie blueish-white light.

“Arthur.” Merlin breathed, reaching for his hand. “This is it. The Crystal Cave. We found it.”

Pulling Merlin close and wrapping an arm around his waist, Arthur chuckled. “You found it, Merlin. I’m just along for the ride.” He smiled to himself, remembering what Hunith had told him. As he surveyed the magical landscape before him, Arthur certainly felt like Merlin was taking him on an exhilarating ride through the clouds.

“No, I was getting nowhere with that graffiti. You’re the one who figured out what we were looking for and where we needed to go.” Merlin leaned into Arthur’s side. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

A tingling warmth filled Arthur, and he felt a bit lightheaded. He closed his eyes and turned so his lips almost brushed Merlin’s ear. He murmured, “I guess we make a pretty good team.”

Arthur smiled as he felt Merlin shiver against him. He whispered Arthur’s name and started to turn his head, lips parting, when suddenly he tensed and drew in a sharp breath. He glared intensely into the bed of crystals before them.

“Merlin?” Arthur whispered, staring in the same direction, trying to see what had distracted Merlin. “What is it?”

Merlin edged away from Arthur, taking two hesitant steps forward. “I’m not sure. I thought I heard a voice… calling me.”

“Calling you?” Arthur peered between the crystals, looking for any movement. “Like by name?”

Merlin gave Arthur an uneasy glance. “It said Emrys.”

“From over there?” Arthur pointed in the direction Merlin kept eyeing dubiously. Feeling suddenly bold, Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder and moved toward the crystals. “Well, let’s go check it out.”

As they got close, the crystals flared brighter, seemingly in response to Merlin’s presence. Arthur’s resolve to investigate the voice must have spurred Merlin on, because his hesitancy was gone, and he was climbing deeper into the cave, scouring among the large rocks and crystals. Arthur searched as well, but he quickly noticed that, unless he stayed close to Merlin, he was plunged back into darkness, as the crystals lost their unearthly glow whenever Merlin turned his back to them.

“Here!” Merlin called. “I found something over here.”

Arthur clambered over the rocks until he reached the spot where Merlin was squatting behind a particularly thick cluster of crystals. On the ground before him was a rock unlike any others in the cave. It was smooth and white, about 15cm across its spherical bottom and narrowing to a rounded point on the top.

“I’m no geologist, but I don’t think that formed here in the cave.” Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s back, leaning forward for a closer look. “It looks more like a river rock. You know, all smoothed by the moving water?”

“It’s not a rock.” Merlin spoke with certainty as he reached out and lifted the mysterious object. “It’s an egg.”

Arthur scowled in confusion. “What, like a fossil?”

But Merlin just shook his head, an awed smile dawning on his face as he stared at the egg. He lifted sparkling eyes to Arthur, and his smile widened until his face shone with childlike excitement. “I think it’s a dragon egg.”

*****

On Monday morning, as Arthur descended to the basement, he sipped his coffee and reflected on how much his entire world had changed since the last time he had been to work. On that morning, he had entered the office fresh from a weekend of visiting magic shops in London, ready to inform his partner that the ridiculous notion of magic, while mostly harmless, did seem to be dangerous in those delusional enough to believe in its power.

This morning, he entered the office fresh from a weekend spent retrieving a dragon egg from a mythical cave and then researching dragons and discussing magic for hours with his partner, the sorcerer. And today, he would be returning to one of those magic shops but, this time, as a believer.

Rounding a corner, he found the office light already on. He was not surprised that Merlin was already here. He was anxious to learn as much as he could about the dragon egg they found, as he was still convinced the cave and the egg somehow related to his father. They planned to visit Gaius, who according to Merlin, knew more about the Old Religion than anyone else alive.

When Arthur stepped into the office, however, Merlin was not there. Instead, DCS Bayard was standing in front of the bulletin board, arms crossed as he examined the notes and photos pinned there.

“Good morning, sir.” Arthur set down his coffee and slid his laptop bag to the floor beside his desk. “May I help you with something?”

Bayard turned and scowled in Arthur’s direction. “I see you’ve recovered from that little incident last week.”

Arthur shrugged and slid a hand across his belly which, thanks to Merlin was fully healed, but he couldn’t exactly tell his boss about that. “Still a little sore but ready to work again.”

With a sharp nod, Bayard turned and motioned toward the bulletin board. “You have photographs here of graffiti from various locations around the city. The Gang Task Force has already looked into these. Why are you and DI Emrys investigating these tags?”

“Oh, we’re not.” Arthur stepped hastily to the board and began unpinning the photos Merlin had saved of the clues leading to the Crystal Cave. “We noticed them around a few crime scenes and took some photos to send over to Leon. Merlin talked to him last week about it, so we don’t need these anymore.” He turned and tossed the photos into the bin before returning to his desk.

Bayard frowned toward the bin for a moment, and Arthur tried his best to make his face casual, as if he had already forgotten about the photos. Still frowning, Bayard turned and started shifting around some papers on Merlin’s desk.

“What will you be working on today?”

Carefully maintaining his casual tone, Arthur answered, “I’m a bit out of the loop after my recovery, but I think we’re heading to London for a consultation.”

“With whom?” Bayard’s tone was anything but casual. He didn’t seem to believe Arthur was telling the whole truth. Which, of course, Arthur wasn’t. It was hard to hide things from the boss when that boss had been a detective for twenty years.

So he wouldn’t arouse Bayard’s suspicion even more, Arthur decided to stay as close to the truth as possible. “We’re consulting with an expert on druidic cults. Gathering as much information as we can for the cases against Alvarr Greenwood and Cerdan Rowe.”

For a moment, Bayard simply stared at Arthur, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to decide whether he believed him. Finally he walked toward the door. “I’ll expect an expense report for that consultation.”

Arthur watched him walk down the hallway and then reached into the dustbin to retrieve Merlin’s photographs. He tucked them safely into the top drawer of his desk and started reading his email, jiggling his leg as he waited anxiously for Merlin to arrive.

*****

“But don’t you think it’s weird that Bayard would even notice those pictures?” Arthur and Merlin walked from the railway station toward The Phoenix Nest. “I mean, why should he care if you took pictures of some graffiti?”

“I don’t know, Arthur.” Merlin shrugged. “You said before that it’s like Bayard is just looking for a reason to sack me. Maybe he thought he could get me on wasting time or resources.”

Arthur shook his head. “But, this time, he wasn’t especially focused on you. It was like he was trying to find out what we’re doing. Like he didn’t trust either one of us.”

“Well, maybe he’s looking for reasons to sack you, too.” Merlin smirked and bumped his shoulder into Arthur’s. “Although I’m not sure a Pendragon has ever been sacked in Camelot.”

They arrived at Gaius’s shop, so Arthur just rolled his eyes and pushed the door open. Merlin grinned triumphantly as he walked past Arthur. Gaius was standing behind the counter, copying receipts into a ledger.

“Gaius, I swear I am buying you a mobile phone, and I’m going to sit on you until you learn how to use it.”

“Well, hello to you, too, Merlin.” Gaius looked up from his calculations, raising one eyebrow in an admonishing manner.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all weekend!” Merlin walked around the counter and gave his old friend a one-armed hug.

Gaius calmly set down his pencil and gave Merlin a quizzical look. “I was away.”

“I noticed.” Merlin widened his eyes, probably attempting to look annoyed, but he couldn’t hide his excitement, and Arthur found the resulting expression particularly adorable.

Gaius glanced at Arthur with a shrewd smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Pendragon. Do you wish to learn more about the Old Religion?”

Arthur gave Merlin a playful scowl. “I suppose you two had a good laugh about my last visit to this shop.”

Throwing his hands up, Merlin exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything.” He turned to Gaius, confused. “How do you know who Arthur is?”

“Ah, well. Uther Pendragon’s reach extends far beyond Camelot.” Gaius closed his ledger and placed it on a shelf underneath the counter. “The last time you were here, I did wonder whether your father had sent you. I didn’t find out until after your visit that you have been helping Merlin investigate his rather unique cases. I hope the information I gave you was of some help.”

Arthur expected more of an explanation of Gaius’s connection with his father, but Gaius did not provide any. He simply peered at Arthur, waiting for a response.

“Um… it was.” Arthur tilted his head apologetically. “And, well, Merlin’s helped me to see the truth about magic, so this time, I promise to have more of an open mind.”

With an appreciative nod to Arthur, Gaius finally turned to Merlin who was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “What can I do for you today, Merlin?”

“We found the Crystal Cave! All those clues I found around Camelot? Arthur figured them out, and they led us to the Crystal Cave. It was so beautiful!” Merlin blurted his news so quickly, Gaius barely had time to look shocked. “And Gaius, we found a dragon egg inside! At least I think it’s a dragon egg. I’m fairly certain. I can just feel it, somehow.”

Arthur nearly laughed out loud at the way Merlin seemed to have turned into an over-excited child telling his mentor about going on a treasure hunt. But when he looked at Gaius, expecting an amused expression at Merlin’s babbling, instead he found a brow furrowed with deep concern.

“Then it’s true,” he murmured. “All these years, none of us ever knew for certain.”

“You knew about it?” Merlin asked.

Shaking his head, Gaius walked back toward his office, and Merlin and Arthur exchanged a confused glance, unsure whether they were meant to follow him, but Gaius returned shortly carrying a dusty book whose leather binding was creased along the spine and fraying along the edges.

“Legend tells us that years ago when dragons were beginning to disappear from the earth, an ancient king named Ashkanar hid the last dragon egg. The Druids pledged to protect the egg, but only dragonlords were permitted to know its location.”

Gaius opened the book and gingerly turned the fragile pages as he continued, “That sacred knowledge was passed down from generation to generation, but as the last remaining dragons died, so too did the need for dragonlords. The gift bestowed from father to son for centuries began to lose strength, and younger generations did not carry the ability either to command dragons or to call them forth from their eggs.”

Crooking his finger to summon Merlin and Arthur closer, Gaius pointed to a drawing in the book. A man stood, mouth wide and head tossed back across from an egg perched on a stone. A claw peeked out from a crack in the egg. There were words printed below the image in a language Arthur did not recognize.

“That’s it,” Merlin breathed. “The egg we found looks exactly like that.” He looked up at Arthur with a hopeful grin.

“So are there any dragonlords left?” Arthur wondered.

With a deep sigh, Gaius closed the book and smoothed his hand across the cover. “Over time, the dragonlord gift became limited to a single family and would sometimes even skip several generations. When I was active in the Druid community, we still took seriously the duty of protecting the last dragon egg, which, to us, meant protecting the last known dragonlord.”

“So there is a living dragonlord?” Merlin’s voice was full of awe. “And he could summon the dragon from its egg? Do you know where he is, Gaius?”

As exciting as it would be to see a real dragon, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder whether bringing a dragon into the world would be the best idea.

But Gaius shook his head sadly. “During the 1980s, the Druids began to fracture into two groups. Over the years, the magic of the earth has dissipated, and even Druids had very little magical ability. Most of us were happy to keep using magic in small ways to keep the Old Religion alive, but a small group decided that summoning the dragon would bring magic back full force. They believed increased magical ability would give them power.

“Our once-peaceful community was thrown into upheaval. The dragonlord did not believe the time was right to call forth the dragon, but those seeking power decided he was wrong.” Gaius grimaced. “They tortured him, trying to make him give up the location of the dragon egg.”

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s arm and squeezed tight. “That’s terrible.”

“Indeed.” Gaius closed his eyes.

“But the egg was still in the cave,” Arthur pointed out. “So he was able to resist the torture, wasn’t he?”

Nodding slowly, Gaius pressed his fingers to his eyelids. “He was, but when we rescued him, he wasn’t certain he would withstand any more, so he decided that in order to protect the egg, he would have to forget where it was.”

Arthur was confused. “How could he do that? Trying to forget something usually just makes you think about it even more.”

“There are spells. A powerful enough sorcerer can make a person forget.”

Squinting his confusion at Gaius, Merlin asked, “But what about all the clues we found?”

“Ah, now that is interesting. Before he had the forgetting spell done, the dragonlord gave several trusted friends a single clue as to the egg’s whereabouts. That way, the knowledge would not be lost forever, but no individual knew the location, and no one knew which Druids had the clues.”

Arthur’s head was starting to spin with all the information Gaius was giving them at once. “So, what? They all just randomly decided to start spray-painting their clues around Camelot after all these years?”

Gaius shook his head and walked around the counter toward the centre of the shop. He motioned for Merlin and Arthur to follow him. “It wasn’t random.”

He stopped before a shelf full of crystals. Most were small and attached to chains to be worn around the neck, but a few were large enough to be displayed on stands. Gaius lifted one of the larger crystals and held it up, twisting it back and forth so the reflection of the shop’s fluorescent lights flashed on its faces.

“Starting a few months ago, I noted a sharp increase in the purchase of crystals. I discovered that a few particularly talented individuals had begun seeing visions in certain crystals.”

Arthur looked at Merlin who was staring back at him, eyes wide. The vision Merlin had seen in the Crystal of Neahtid was what made him believe the graffiti had something to do with his father.

“I believe,” Gaius continued, “That some event triggered the activation of the crystals, and the Druids who had information on the location of the dragon egg started leaving the graffiti in an attempt to find one another. Perhaps they believe the time is right to bring another dragon into the world.”

“But only a dragonlord can do that, right?” Merlin reached out to touch the crystal in Gaius’s hand, sliding his fingers along the edge and leaning forward to gaze into its surface. He looked up at Gaius again, and Arthur saw realization dawning on his face. “I saw my father in a crystal. Along with one of the clues.”

Gaius placed the crystal back on the shelf and turned to face Merlin fully, the worry lines on his forehead deepening. “When you went to the Crystal Cave, Merlin, how did you find the egg? And how did you know what it was?”

Merlin took two steps back, shaking his head in fear.

“The egg called to you, didn’t it?” Gaius’s face was kind as he spoke. “You were drawn to the dragon egg because you are a dragonlord, Merlin. Just as your father was.”

Arthur gaped at this revelation, and he looked at Merlin to see tears forming in his eyes.

Gaius continued in a solemn voice. “I was the one who performed the memory spell to make Balinor forget the location of the egg. He made me promise not to tell, but he asked me to look out for you, Merlin. In case you were also a dragonlord. In case those who came after him also came after you.”

Merlin’s lower lip was quivering, and he was shaking his head violently from side to side. “How could you keep this from me? All this time, you knew what happened to him? Why he was taken from us?”

Arthur’s heart was breaking for Merlin, and he placed his hand gently on his partner’s shoulder, but Merlin shook it off. He glared at Gaius. “You should have told me the truth.”

And Merlin spun away and stalked out of the shop.

With a sigh, Gaius turned to face Arthur. “Go after him.” He nodded toward the door. “And tell him I’m sorry.”

Arthur nodded his thanks to Gaius and walked briskly out the door and down the pavement to catch up with Merlin. He didn’t try to touch him this time, but he matched his pace and walked alongside him in silence for about a block.

Merlin began to slow down, and his shoulders slumped, defeated. He stopped walking and closed his eyes, his face pinched as he began to cry in earnest. Arthur placed one hand gently on Merlin’s upper arm, pulled him into an alcove between two shops and then wrapped both arms around him, holding him tight as Merlin let go and allowed a few sobs to escape.

He murmured apologies and words of comfort into Merlin’s hair, stroking his fingers across his back and shoulders and neck. Merlin pressed his face into Arthur’s neck, wetting his skin with warm tears. Without raising his head, Merlin spoke, his words reverberating through Arthur’s chest.

“He really is dead. They took him, and they tortured him.” He took a deep shuddering breath and lifted his head, puffy red eyes meeting Arthur’s. “I guess I always knew that mostly likely he was dead, but…” The words caught in his throat for a moment. “Not like that.”

Arthur reached up and combed his fingers through Merlin’s dishevelled hair and brushed the tears from Merlin’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry.”

Leaning into Arthur’s touch, Merlin closed his eyes. His mouth formed a tight line. “I understand that Gaius was just keeping his promise and trying to protect me, but I wish he would have told me the truth.”

Arthur nodded. “He said to tell you he was sorry.”

Merlin gave a slight shrug. “I know he is.” He furrowed his brow and nodded slowly. “I should go back and talk to him.”

He extricated himself from Arthur’s arms, but as they walked back toward Gaius’s shop, he reached for Arthur’s hand to hold. “Thank you.” He gave a hesitant smile.

Just before they reached The Phoenix Nest, Arthur’s mobile buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the screen. “It’s my father. You go talk to Gaius, and I’ll stay out here and wait for you.”

Merlin entered the shop, and Arthur leaned against the brick wall to talk with his father.

“I got a call from Martin Bayard this morning. He mentioned that you were injured on the job and spent a few days in hospital last week. You didn’t think to share this information with your father?”

Arthur sighed. No, he had not thought to share his injury with his father. He didn’t think his father would care.

“Well, have you recovered?” Uther’s voice showed no hint of concern.

“Yes, I have. The injury wasn’t severe.” Arthur knew his father would ask for no further details.

“I’m glad to hear it. I want you to come for dinner tonight.”

Arthur was aware Uther’s invitation was actually more of a command, but he couldn’t help scoffing. “I’m in London with Merlin. I can’t come for dinner tonight.”

But no one turned down Uther Pendragon, and Arthur knew his protest would be ignored. “Then bring Merlin as well. I will expect you both at seven o-clock.”

Arthur stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, resenting his father and cursing his demanding personality until he remembered what Merlin was discussing with Gaius at that very moment, and his anger dissolved rapidly. He did love his father, and even though Uther was challenging to deal with, Arthur was glad he was still around. He would do his best to have a positive attitude about tonight’s dinner.

*****

After Uther’s tenth condescending question to Merlin about the nature of the cases they investigated, Arthur was grinding his teeth and clenching his fists and trying to remember why he hadn’t faked another injury to get out of this dinner. For his part, Merlin was doing an excellent job maintaining patience and answering Uther’s questions with a combination of official police statements and half-truths. But Arthur could tell Merlin’s avoidance was frustrating Uther.

“But don’t you believe some of these so-called victims would be better off getting the psychiatric help they need rather than validation of their absurd claims from respected establishments like the Camelot Police Department?”

Merlin flinched, clearly wounded by Uther’s complete dismissal of his life’s work, and Arthur opened his mouth to chastise his father, but Merlin, bless him, spoke up before Arthur had a chance.

“I believe everyone deserves to feel safe. And I believe everyone deserves justice.” Merlin fixed Uther with an unwavering stare. “And I do not believe it is the responsibility of those charged with protecting the public to decide who deserves our help and who doesn’t.”

At Merlin’s words, tears sprung to Arthur’s eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. And Arthur realised that he had fallen completely in love with this man. This exceptionally compassionate and courageous man.

Uther merely grunted, pushed away his untouched dessert, glanced at his watch and stood. “I have a conference call to New York in ten minutes. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Emrys.” He gave Merlin a polite nod and then turned to his son. “Arthur, you should make an attempt to visit more often.” And he walked out of the dining room.

Merlin watched Uther leave and then turned to Arthur. “Your father … is a very interesting man.”

He pursed his lips together into the sassiest smirk Arthur had ever seen, which made Arthur laugh out loud. Laughing felt good after they day they’d had.

“Interesting? That’s one way of putting it.” He pushed away from the table. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

But Merlin remained seated, looking around the dining room toward the door into the main sitting room. “Actually, do you think your father would mind if you gave me a tour of the house?” He gave a little shrug. “I’d like to see where you grew up. Gain some insight into the arrogant little rich kid who grew up to be…” He trailed off, gazing fondly at Arthur.

“Grew up to be…?” Arthur stood and reached his hand out to Merlin.

Merlin took his hand and stood, maintaining eye-contact and stepping close enough that Arthur could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “The best partner I could ever imagine.” And Merlin’s hungry gaze dropped to Arthur’s lips, indicating that he wasn’t entirely referring to their partnership on the force.

Merlin licked his lips and smiled. He tugged Arthur toward the sitting room, affecting a lofty tone. “Come along. Show me the conservatory and the ballroom and the swimming pool.”

With another chuckle, Arthur went along, playing tour guide as if he were showing Merlin around an historic castle. He had never felt entirely comfortable in his house like other people always seemed to feel in their own homes, but walking through the cold rooms full of antiques that were not meant for touching and chairs that were not meant for sitting, laughing and joking with his hand warm in Merlin’s, Arthur felt that he had finally discovered what the house was missing.

He squeezed Merlin’s hand, feeling happy and content and full of hope. And Merlin smiled at him.

“I want to see your library.”

The moment they entered the large room whose walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, Merlin stopped short and breathed an impressed, “Wow.”

Arthur smiled, because this was the one place in his father’s house that could make him feel nostalgic for his childhood. Merlin walked along one wall, hand out, brushing the spines of the books. Arthur followed, a few favourite titles jumping out at him and calling him to settle into the old, green armchair — one of the only comfortable chairs in the house — and read for hours as he did as a child.

Merlin turned to him, mouth agape. “This is amazing. You do realise how lucky you were to have access to of all of this as a kid?”

Looking around the room, Arthur could appreciate how fortunate he was to have grown up not having to worry about his education or about having the clothes or other material things he needed, but he also remembered how this library had been an escape for him. How he had never felt good enough, and how he had always had to strive for his father’s attention.

His gaze settled on Merlin, who made him feel like he mattered and was perfect just the way he was. “I don’t know. I think I’m pretty lucky now, actually.” His lips curved into an earnest smile.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Are you trying to come on to me?” He started walking toward Arthur.

Confused, Arthur tried to point out that he was being sincere. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Merlin shrugged. “That’s too bad, because if you did, I was going to kiss you.” He stopped directly in front of Arthur and gave him a look that clearly said, “Your move.”

Arthur’s heart leapt into this throat, and, with a sly grin, he backtracked. “Oh no, I misunderstood. Yes, I absolutely meant it as a come on.”

“Good,” Merlin declared.

And then he slid his hands around Arthur’s waist and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Arthur closed his eyes and raised one hand to the back of Merlin’s neck, stroking his thumb along the stubble just below his jawline. He slid his tongue along Merlin’s bottom lip, and Merlin moaned, fingers digging into the muscles of Arthur’s back, pulling him close. Arthur licked into Merlin’s mouth, delighting in the little gasps of hot breath he felt on his lips. He moved to nip down Merlin’s jaw, and Merlin tossed his head back to give Arthur access to his throat.

As Arthur pressed open-mouthed kisses into his throat, Merlin gasped, “Ah… Arthur. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

Arthur returned to Merlin’s lips to emphasise his agreement. “Mmm… I’ve wanted you, too.” He slowed down a bit, and they stood, bodies pressed together, eyes closed, lips barely brushing. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are, Merlin?”

He felt Merlin’s breath on his lips and felt his stomach pulse as he gave a sceptical laugh. “Says the golden Adonis.” He pulled back slightly, and his twinkling eyes met Arthur’s. “Let’s go back to my place, shall we?” His smile was suddenly hesitant, unsure.

More than anything, Arthur wanted to say, “Hell, yes!” But he also didn’t want to rush. He wanted this thing with Merlin to last. “I want to, Merlin. You know I want to, but today was kind of a rough day. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

Merlin looked disappointed but reluctantly nodded his agreement. “I’d still like you to come with me, though. We don’t have to do anything, just… talk?”

“I’d like that.” Arthur nodded, and, reaching for Merlin’s hand, he started toward the door.

But as they passed Arthur’s favourite armchair, Merlin paused, reaching for a book lying on the end table. “Why does your father have a book about modern Druids?”

As he picked the book up, a photograph slipped from between its pages and fluttered to the floor. Merlin stooped to pick it up but froze half-hunched as soon as he saw it.

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur craned his neck to see around Merlin’s shoulders.

Merlin stood and gave Arthur an oddly accusing look. He held the photo out so Arthur could see. It looked like a statue in a church cemetery. Arthur squinted, bending closer for a better look. He had never seen this photograph before, but the statue did look vaguely familiar.

“That’s my father.” Merlin’s voice was low, seething. “They didn’t kill him. They turned him into a statue.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. “What? What makes you think that, Merlin? This could just be made to look like him.”

But Merlin shook his head. “No. If they ever did find the egg, they would need a dragonlord to control the dragon. They must have preserved him in stone to save him for the time they would need him.”

Pursing his lips, Arthur held back from telling Merlin his theory was a bit of a stretch. Only a few hours before had Merlin finally accepted that his father was dead, so, naturally, finding this statue made him believe he had a chance of getting him back.

Merlin looked up at Arthur, eyes pleading. “I know how it sounds, Arthur. But if there’s a chance…”

Arthur leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s, reaching up and cradling his hand that held the photo. “Okay,” Arthur agreed. Because, at this point, Arthur was so far gone, he would agree to almost anything to see Merlin happy. “Let’s go find that church.”

*****

Early the next morning, Merlin and Arthur were walking, hand in hand, into a churchyard in Scotland. There were enough visual clues in the photograph to help them locate the cemetery with just a bit of online research. Arthur suggested they take the rest of the week off and drive up the next morning, but Merlin could not wait. So just after midnight, Arthur had found himself driving up the M6 with a very anxious Merlin in the seat beside him, reading through spell books and using his phone as a torch, trying to find out how to revive a person who had been turned to stone.

The sun was low in the sky as they passed through a stone archway into the cemetery at the rear of the church. Two steps in, Merlin paused. Fear in his eyes, he looked at Arthur, who gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Together, they walked between gravestones and monuments, around the back corner of the church until they spotted the statue they were looking for.

Releasing Arthur’s hand, Merlin walked slowly up to the statue until he and it were face to face. He raised his hand as if to touch the stone but dropped it for a moment. Arthur walked a bit closer. He kept his distance but chose a spot to stand where he knew he was visible to Merlin. He wanted to allow Merlin the space to come to grips with the effigy of the father he lost so many years ago, but he also wanted Merlin to know he was there for him, if needed.

Finally, Merlin raised his hand and caressed the stone cheek of his father for just a moment before letting his hand fall to his side once more. “You look just the same. All this time, you’ve been right here. My Daddy.”

Merlin’s face remained stoic, but the tenderness in his voice brought tears to Arthur’s eyes. He wanted to reach out his hand to connect with Merlin somehow, but he also didn’t want to intrude. Merlin stepped back from the statue, raised one hand and started the spell, but his voice broke, and he couldn’t continue.

He lowered his hand and looked at Arthur. “What if it doesn’t work?” His face crumpled in a single sob, and he reached for Arthur at the same moment as Arthur reached out to close the space between them.

Arthur held Merlin, but this time, he wasn’t actually crying, just breathing deeply, as if steeling himself for what he needed to do. He pulled away and brushed a hand through the hair above Arthur’s ear. He tilted his head up and planted a kiss on Arthur’s forehead.

“Thank you for being so understanding. And for driving all through the night!” Merlin chuckled.

“Of course.” Arthur pulled Merlin tighter against him. “What are partners for?”

With a laugh, Merlin gave his hips a little wiggle. “Well, I’m not certain this is what Bayard had in mind when he assigned us to work together.”

Arthur shrugged and gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I’m not sure anyone could have imagined this...” He gestured around the cemetery, emphasising Merlin’s stone father. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend quite a bit of time imagining this…” He gestured between them and smiled sincerely. “Right from the start.”

Nodding, Merlin pressed his soft lips to Arthur’s. The kiss was brief but tender and full of promise. When he pulled away this time, he took a deep breath and blew it out pursed lips, turning toward the statue with renewed determination.

Arthur stepped back as Merlin raised his hand again and rasped out mysterious words. Arthur wasn’t sure what to expect — a flash of light, maybe, or glittering sparks — but the moment Merlin uttered the final word, without fanfare or warning, the statue was gone, and a man stood before them.

His eyes went wide, and he took several steps backward, holding his hands out defensively and looking back and forth between Merlin and Arthur.

“Who are you?” His voice was raw. “Where have you taken me? Where is my family?”

“I…” Merlin stared at him, wide-eyed, suddenly unable to speak.

So Arthur spoke up. “You’re safe, Balinor. We came here to help you.” He spread his hands, palm up before him to emphasise his benign intent. “You… Well, you were transformed into a statue, and you’ve apparently been standing in this churchyard for … several years.”

Arthur was hesitant to be specific because he wasn’t sure how much Balinor could handle all at once.

“Years?” Balinor’s face registered shock and horror. “But my family. My wife and my little boy. Do they know I’m here?”

“They didn’t.” Merlin finally spoke up. “Until last night.”

Merlin was shaking. Arthur could see he wanted to tell his father who he was, but he didn’t seem to know quite how.

“Where are they?” Balinor was beginning to lose his patience.

Merlin took another deep breath. “Hunith is at home. The same home you were taken from.”

Balinor’s eyes widened in fright. He whispered, “But Merlin isn’t with her? Did they take him, too?”

Lower lip trembling, Merlin looked straight at Balinor. “You’ve been frozen here for twenty-four years.”

Arthur had no idea how Balinor reacted to this revelation, because he could not take his eyes from Merlin. His shoulders quivered, and his eyes shone with tears.

“I’m Merlin.” A single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. “I’m your son.”

Arthur finally tore his eyes from Merlin to look at Balinor. His eyebrows came together in confusion, but as he looked at Merlin, his eyes showed a spark of recognition.

His voice was nothing but a whisper. “Merlin?” He stepped forward. “My Merlin?”

Merlin nodded, a hint of a smile showing first in his eyes and then curling his lips and raising his cheeks. Without another word, Balinor reached out his arms and wrapped them around his son. As Arthur watched, he saw Merlin’s shoulders shaking with sobs, and Arthur felt warm tears fill his own eyes and spill down his cheeks. He turned away and walked toward the church to allow father and son to reconnect in private.

As he waited, Arthur’s mind wandered to a subject he had been deliberately avoiding thinking about all night. Why had his father had a photograph of Balinor as a statue? Could he have had something to do with his kidnapping? Arthur knew his father was competitive and power-hungry, but he did not want to believe that he had worked all those years ago with the Druids who wanted a dragon to gain more power. He tried to remember whether his father had ever shown any indication of believing in magic. After ten or fifteen minutes had passed, Merlin and Balinor came walking up, shoulder to shoulder, to find Arthur.

“Arthur!” Merlin’s grin was bright and reached nearly from ear to ear. “I want you to meet my father!”

He actually laughed at being able to say those words, and Arthur grinned in response.

“I’m very pleased to meet you.” He reached his hand out to shake Balinor’s. “You have an incredible son who never gave up on finding you all these years.”

“Merlin tells me he would never have found me without your help.” Balinor smiled warmly. “So thank you.”

Arthur gave a dismissive shrug. He certainly didn’t want to take credit for helping rescue Balinor when his own father might have been partly responsible for his being here in the first place. “No, I hardly did anything. It was all Merlin, really.”

Merlin put his arm around Arthur’s waist and pulled him close, giving a couple of squeezes. “You helped more than you know, Arthur.” He rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “I mean it.”

Looking into Merlin’s eyes and seeing nothing but happiness and sincerity, Arthur could not help kissing the tip of Merlin’s nose. “I’m glad I could help.”

They stared at each other, eyes twinkling happily for a few moments until Balinor cleared his throat. “I think we have a lot of catching up to do.” Arthur looked for any hint of judgment in Balinor’s expression and found none. He only looked sad that he had missed his son growing up.

“I really want to get to know you, son.” He smiled at both of them. “And you, Arthur. But first, I think I would like to go see my wife.” He motioned toward the archway. “Shall we?”

And Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his and, together, they led Merlin’s father out of the cemetery he had guarded for twenty-four years to be reunited with his family. As he drove toward Ealdor, Merlin and Balinor talking and laughing in the back seat, Arthur couldn’t keep the smile from his face. At some point in the near future, he would have to confront his own father about his involvement with Balinor’s disappearance, but for now, Arthur was so grateful to hear Merlin’s joyful, carefree laugh, he could not help joining in.

*****

“Parents and egg finally settled. Leaving Ealdor. Should arrive a”

Arthur frowned at his mobile. Merlin’s text was choppier than usual, and the fact that it cut off mid-sentence made Arthur worry that Merlin was texting while driving. In case that was true, he didn’t answer the text so he wouldn’t distract his partner further. He set his phone on the desk and turned back to his computer to continue typing the notes from his latest case.

A couple of minutes later, his phone buzzed again.

“Sorry light changed. Arriving at 8:45pm. Can’t wait to see you!”

With a deep sigh, Arthur quickly typed, “You are an officer of the law. Do Not Text and Drive!” And then, because he was getting butterflies in his stomach just thinking about seeing Merlin in a few hours, and because, even though he was a grown man and a professional detective, he was still on that giddy, start-of-the-relationship high, Arthur added a kissy-face emoticon.

After they had rescued Balinor from the cemetery and reunited him with Hunith, Merlin and his parents decided they needed some time to get reacquainted, so Merlin took a two-week leave of absence from work. And as much as he and Arthur wanted to spend time together, they both decided Merlin should focus completely on his family during those two weeks. So they talked on the phone and texted quite a bit, but Arthur had not seen Merlin since the Friday after they returned Balinor to Ealdor. And having shared only a few kisses with Merlin after they finally acknowledged their feelings for one another, Arthur was desperate for some time alone with the man he had spent the last few months falling in love with.

Arthur did take the opportunity while Merlin was away to confront his father. That conversation had not gone well. As CEO of one of the largest companies in Camelot, Uther was a master at creating plausible deniability.

“Of course I knew that magic existed. And, yes, I have been aware for many years of the existence of hidden communities of magic-users. I am well-educated and well-read in many subjects, Arthur.”

Uther had barely looked up from his newspaper when Arthur stormed into his office, demanding to know more about the book Merlin had found in Uther’s library.

“Then why did you have a photograph of Balinor as a statue? Did you know that statue was actually a real person?” Uther’s casual indifference toward Arthur’s fury was making Arthur shake. “Did you know that was my partner’s father?”

Finally meeting Arthur’s eyes, Uther stared quietly for several infuriating moments before answering. “I knew the statue resembled a man named Balinor Emrys who was known for having stronger than average magical abilities, most likely due to his notable lineage.”

Hearing this made Arthur’s eyes flare with hot anger, but Uther continued before Arthur had a chance to shout his rage at his father. “And, yes, I did know that Merlin Emrys was the son of Balinor Emrys and therefore had the same powerful ancestors.”

Arthur clenched his jaw and breathed deeply as he stared in disbelief at his father. “You knew? You knew his father was frozen in stone, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I knew there existed a statue that resembled your partner’s father.” Uther shook his head. “I did not believe that information alone warranted seeking you out. Perhaps if you visited on a more regular basis or showed any interest in getting to know your own father, the subject might have come up naturally in conversation.”

Arthur had to turn around and walk toward the door, putting as much distance between him and his father as he could, so he wouldn’t lose his temper. He would have walked out of the house and never returned, but he still needed answers. He knew his father was lying. He believed Uther knew the statue was actually Balinor. And he suspected that he had known long before Arthur had been assigned to work with Merlin.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Arthur that made his blood run cold. Arthur had seen his father coming out of a meeting with DCS Bayard. If Uther was responsible for Balinor being turned to stone, perhaps he had somehow arranged for Arthur to be partnered with Balinor’s son. Perhaps he had even been responsible for bringing Merlin to Camelot in the first place so he could keep a closer eye on the man who might turn out to be a dragonlord.

Arthur pressed his palm against the cold wood of the office door and took several deep breaths before turning to face his father again. “Did you tell your old friend Martin Bayard to assign me to spy on Merlin for you?”

Uther narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin slightly in defiance. His silence confirmed Arthur’s suspicions. And without another word, Arthur walked out of his father’s office and out of his father’s house.

He received several angry voicemails scolding him for his “little tantrum,” but he deleted them without a second thought. At least now Arthur knew he could turn down a dinner invitation from Uther Pendragon and the world would not end.

After Arthur finished typing his notes, he packed up his laptop to complete the report at home. He checked the clock frequently as he ate his dinner, anxious for Merlin to arrive. Arthur remembered the night he told Merlin about his conversation with his father. He had raged and reviled his father’s actions, but rather than joining Arthur in his furore, Merlin was contemplative, theorising on the reasons behind Uther’s behaviour.

“Oh, hey! Remember when Gaius said that some event must have triggered the crystals to start showing the clues my father left?”

Arthur vaguely remembered Gaius saying something like that.

“What if the event that triggered the crystals was when you and I became partners?” Merlin actually sounded pleased. “Like the universe was trying to fix all the wrong that had been done by pairing the dragonlord’s son with the son of his enemy!”

Shoving the last bite of bread into his mouth, Arthur smiled and picked up his plate to carry to the sink. Only Merlin could put a positive spin on finding out his partner’s father had most likely been responsible for the disappearance of his own father. Although, Arthur supposed as he rinsed his plate and his glass, he would rather believe the universe or fate or some greater power was responsible for his partnership with Merlin than believe Uther Pendragon had brought them together.

Arthur picked up his laptop and settled onto the couch to finish his report on the case he had worked alone while Merlin was away. He tried to concentrate on getting all the details right, so the prosecutor would have no trouble getting a conviction in court, but his mind kept wandering to Merlin and how it would feel to hold him in his arms again, pulling his warm body close as Arthur buried his face in his neck and breathed in his scent. He imagined sliding his hands underneath Merlin’s shirt and scratching his nails down Merlin’s back as Merlin tossed his head back, mouth agape. Arthur shifted on the couch as his trousers started to feel tight. He sighed and closed his laptop, resolving to finish the report tomorrow when he could give it the focus it deserved. For now, he grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, checking the clock again. One more hour.

When he finally heard a knock on his door, Arthur hastily hit the power button and flew to the door, throwing it open, unable to contain an embarrassingly large grin.

“Merlin!”

He was relieved to see Merlin’s face split into an equally wide grin. Arthur reached for Merlin’s arm and pulled him into the flat. He carefully pulled Merlin’s bag from his shoulder, placed it on the floor and then wrapped both arms tightly around his shoulders and squeezed.

Merlin hummed and slid his own arms around Arthur’s waist, pulling him close. “I missed you.”

Not quite ready to release Merlin, Arthur tucked his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck and hummed back. “I missed you, too.”

They held one another close for a few moments before Merlin pulled back slightly and kissed the tip of Arthur’s nose. “Give me just a minute? I need the loo.”

With a slight chuckle, Arthur stepped aside to let Merlin pass, but he called after him, “You hungry? I could reheat some chicken and potatoes for you.”

“No thanks. I’m fine.” Merlin shook his head and stepped around the corner, but he immediately poked his head out again with a sheepish grin. “Actually, do you have any eggs?”

Arthur was frying two eggs when Merlin came into the kitchen, pressing his fingers into his lower back and stretching. “Damn, that’s a long drive.” He stepped right up behind Arthur and slid his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Arthur’s shoulder, watching him flip the eggs with his spatula. “Thank you. Those’ll be perfect.”

Merlin’s thumb stroked Arthur’s belly, and his cheek rubbed against his neck, and Arthur nearly burned the eggs, but soon they were sitting on Arthur’s couch, thighs pressed together, as Merlin ate his eggs, and Arthur told him all about his most recent case. When Merlin finished, he drank an entire glass of water and then leaned back, settling into the couch and leaning his head onto Arthur’s shoulder with a deep sigh.

He didn’t say anything, but he stroked his hand up and down Arthur’s arm, fingers traipsing gently from Arthur’s bicep all the way down to his fingers and back again. His touch was perfect in that moment, comfortable and easy but also leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. Arthur pressed a kiss into his hair.

“So you had a good visit with your parents?”

Merlin hummed and nodded his head slowly. “I did.”

Then Arthur felt a sharp exhale he couldn’t identify as a chuckle or a sob, so he leaned his head down to look at Merlin’s face. His eyes were closed, but his lips were curled into a slight smile. He must have felt Arthur move, because he opened his eyes. Arthur’s breath caught when he saw that Merlin’s eyes were filled with a sadness that did not match his smile.

He shrugged. “A nice visit with my parents. That’s something I never thought I’d be able to have.”

Arthur’s heart clenched with grief and guilt. Since he was a child, Merlin only had a mother, so, naturally as an adult, he knew nothing of visiting his parents. He travelled back to Ealdor at Christmas to visit his mother. On his birthday, he got a phone call from his mother. The sadness in his eyes was not caused by this visit with his parents. Merlin’s sorrow was for all the visits the three of them had missed over the years.

And Arthur hated that his own father had likely caused Merlin’s pain.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin.” Arthur pulled back so he could look directly into Merlin’s eyes. “If I had known…” He trailed off, shrugging and shaking his head helplessly.

“I know.” Merlin gazed back at him, a crease appearing in his forehead. “My father told me a little about what happened that night he was taken from our home.” Merlin gave Arthur’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to know?”

Merlin’s hesitancy to tell Arthur the truth already seemed to implicate Uther, but as much as Arthur did not want to believe his father could be responsible for Balinor’s abduction and imprisonment, Arthur needed to know the truth. He slid his hand into Merlin’s, interlocking their fingers, and then he nodded.

“Uther was there.” Merlin kept his eyes locked with Arthur’s as he confirmed his worst suspicions. “Dad told me the splinter group of druids took him three times before that last night. They wanted him to lead them to the dragon egg and to call forth the dragon, so they could reignite the power of magic in the world. He knew they would keep trying, so he made Gaius remove all his memories related to the dragon egg and dragon lore. Uther was never directly involved with the abductions or…” Merlin swallowed hard. “The torture.” His gaze dropped to his lap for a moment, but he took a deep breath and continued, “But he was always there. In the background. Just observing.”

A sense of horror crept over Arthur. He knew his father was a ruthless businessman, willing to push others down to make his way to the top, but to hear that he had watched as a man was tortured made Arthur’s skin crawl and bile rise in his throat.

“Dad said it was Uther’s idea to turn him to stone. He told the others that preserving the last dragonlord would ensure their group’s ability to control a dragon if they ever discovered the location of the egg. And also…” Merlin bit his lip and cut his eyes to the side, away from Arthur’s face.

“What?” Arthur dreaded hearing more, but he needed to know everything about his father’s involvement.

Looking back up at Arthur, Merlin tilted his head in apology, which was ridiculous. Why should Merlin feel sorry for Arthur when it had been Arthur’s own father who tore apart Merlin’s family?

“Uther told my father, just before the spell was cast to make him a statue, that he would keep an eye on his son — on me — to see whether I would inherit the dragonlord’s gifts.” Merlin gave a little shrug. “I suspect you were right. Your father was the one who convinced Bayard to bring me to Camelot.”

Arthur’s head hurt. His entire life, his father had kept this secret. His knowledge of the existence of magic. His desire to control a dragon. His torturing a young father and then turning him to stone.

As Arthur looked into Merlin’s sympathetic eyes, he felt terrible guilt. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something. If I had known before, I would have done whatever I could to help, Merlin. You have to know that.”

Merlin turned on the couch to face Arthur fully. He reached with both hands to cup Arthur’s face, thumbs stroking along Arthur’s cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Arthur. You are not responsible for your father’s actions. And you have helped me. Since that very first day when you walked into the basement ready for whatever crazy case I threw at you.” Merlin smiled. “And there have been some crazy cases, haven’t there?”

With a chuckle, Arthur nodded. “Remember the spider-man?”

Eyes lighting up, Merlin laughed and reached up to card his fingers through Arthur’s hair. “Through all the craziness, you kept me grounded, Arthur. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Even when I was losing faith in myself, you believed in me. You stood by me, and that meant a lot.” He splayed his hand around the nape of Arthur’s neck. “And when I told you about my magic, you didn’t kick me out or call me a freak or even ask me to put on a show; you just kept being my partner and helping me solve mysteries.”

Merlin leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Arthur’s. “You have helped me more than you know, Arthur.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “And I love you for that.”

Overwhelmed by his feelings for this man, Arthur tilted his head forward and captured Merlin’s lips. He brought one hand up to press into the curls at the nape of Merlin’s neck, pulling him closer as he parted his own lips, his tongue seeking the wet heat of Merlin’s mouth.

With a slight moan, Merlin melted against him, arms sliding down his back and settling at his waist for just a moment, before his fingers began to tug at the hem of Arthur’s shirt. They got a bit tangled as Merlin pulled the shirt up and over Arthur’s head, and Arthur started to giggle, but then Merlin got up on his knees, tossed one leg over both of Arthur’s and straddled his lap, and Arthur’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Merlin on top of him.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, Merlin watched his own fingers stroking up and down Arthur’s chest. Arthur tipped his head back with a deep moan as Merlin leaned down to nibble on his Adam’s apple. His hips kept stuttering upward in tiny movements as he sought any sort of friction. Finally, Arthur gripped Merlin’s hips and pulled him forward, causing both of them to moan loudly, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Merlin leaned down, attacking his mouth, and their tongues tangled and their teeth clacked together, and Arthur had never felt such an intense need of another person in his whole life, and when Merlin pulled back, meeting his eyes and reaching for the button of his trousers with a whispered “Can I?” Arthur nearly lifted his hips clear off the couch with the need for Merlin’s touch.

He nodded vigorously. “Please, yes!” His voice sounded raspy and a bit desperate, but he didn’t care, especially when Merlin’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk as he dove in to suck on Arthur’s bottom lip while his fingers were busy tugging on the zip of Arthur’s trousers.

Later that night, Arthur lay in his bed, spooned against Merlin’s back, legs slotted together, one arm draped over Merlin’s belly, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath. He pressed gentle kisses from just behind Merlin’s ear to the curve of his shoulder.

Merlin hummed sleepily, and Arthur smiled, remembering the last time he watched Merlin fall asleep. It was a few weeks ago, when they were working on the Mordred case, and Arthur practically had to force Merlin to sleep before he passed out from exhaustion. That night Hunith had told Arthur he was good for Merlin, that he helped keep him grounded. And Merlin had said the same tonight.

Pressing his nose into the base of Merlin’s neck, Arthur took a deep breath, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Merlin’s. He wished he had told Merlin just how much he helped Arthur, as well. Even before Arthur saw the griffin and started believing in magic, Merlin showed Arthur how to investigate with an open mind. How to leave behind all his preconceived notions about analysing evidence and just let his mind soar freely through all the possibilities. Together, Arthur thought they made a pretty terrific team.

Arthur shifted a bit, snuggling close to Merlin and settling into the pillow. He murmured a simple “love you” as he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

*****

They continued their work just as before, investigating the cases with an element of mystery that befuddled the other detectives. But now that Arthur knew about Merlin’s special abilities, he could help distract witnesses while Merlin used his magic to gather evidence or track down a suspect. They developed a reputation on the force as the detectives to call when the situation seemed hopeless.

Valiant started calling them Mr. and Mr. Spooky, but now the nicknames were used with respect, so Merlin and Arthur didn’t mind the teasing.

Balinor decided not to press charges against Uther or the druids who had abducted him. Arthur believed his testimony, but they knew few others would. Instead, Hunith and Balinor moved to a small cottage in the country. They felt it would be difficult to explain to friends and neighbours in Ealdor why Balinor had reappeared after so many years and why he did not appear to have aged. It was difficult enough for the two of them to deal with, but their deep love for one another would carry them through.

Merlin told Gaius about his father’s return, and Gaius agreed not to share that information with any other druids. As far as most of the magical community was concerned, Balinor Emrys had died twenty-four years ago.

The dragon egg was hidden safely away once more, and only Merlin and his father knew its location. Perhaps they would sense a need to return dragons to the world one day, but now was not the time.

As for Uther, Arthur had not decided yet whether he would ever speak to him again. He suggested to Merlin that they should use on Uther the memory spell Gaius had used on Balinor. “We could make him forget everything he knows about magic and about dragons. That’s the only way you and your family will be safe.”

But Merlin didn’t seem to think that was a good idea. He thought Arthur could be a good influence on Uther and change his mind about taking advantage of sorcerers for his own gain. But Arthur suspected Merlin’s experience of losing his father so young had made him a little too sentimental about fathers and sons. He seemed to want Arthur to make up with Uther, although he wasn’t pushing him, for which Arthur was grateful. Maybe one day Arthur would be able to forgive his father, but he was not ready yet.

Arthur walked down the stairs to the basement carrying two sandwiches from the café down the street. Merlin was busy finishing up some paperwork, so Arthur volunteered to grab lunch for them both. As he stepped into the office, however, Merlin was not at his computer. He was standing at his worktable, flipping through one of his oldest magic books.

He looked up at Arthur, eyes gleaming with excitement. “In the city council meeting this morning, several members of the council were overcome with unexplained flatulence.” Merlin snorted.

Arthur stared in disbelief at his partner who had apparently reverted to a thirteen year old boy.

“Also, when the mayor showed up,” Merlin snickered, “he had lost all of his hair overnight!” Merlin swished his hand over the top of his head, emphasising the motion with a high-pitched whistle. “Completely bald!”

Arthur shook his head, confused at Merlin’s glee. “So it’s some sort of prank? Are they pressing charges? How does this concern us?” He walked to his desk to set down the bag with his and Merlin’s lunch.

“I’m getting to that.” Merlin closed his book and walked around the table, pulling out his sandwich and taking a large bite as he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. He continued, speaking around the food in his mouth as he shifted the sandwich back and forth between his hands to pull on his coat. “At one point during the meeting, everyone in the room fell asleep at the same time, and when they woke up, their watches, rings and other jewellery were missing. Every item in the room made of gold had just disappeared.”

“Ah.” Now Arthur understood. A robbery had taken place, so clearly this was a police matter, but that still didn’t explain why he and Merlin would be involved. Arthur put one hand on Merlin’s shoulder, turning him to face Arthur. Somewhat amused, he gave his partner a suspicious look. “So why are you grinning like a maniac?”

Quirking his eyebrows, Merlin leaned in conspiratorially. “Because I think one of the council members has been possessed by a goblin.”

“A goblin?” Arthur burst out laughing. “Merlin, you are completely insane!”

Merlin gave Arthur his most dazzling smile. “Maybe, but you love me anyway.” And he bounded out the door, shouting to Arthur, “Come on!”

Arthur stood, chuckling and shaking his head for a few moments before he followed his partner toward the stairs. Because, of course, Merlin was right. Arthur did love him, and he would follow him anywhere. Even to Town Hall to investigate a mischievous goblin.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [art for "Truth, Trust and Partnership"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4609269) by [rou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rou/pseuds/rou)




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